


Everything September Onwards is a Food Marathon

by porki_buns



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Feedism, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Modern AU, Mutual Gaining, Past Abuse, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Stuffing, Teasing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, chub kink, relationship weight, unintentional weight gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2020-10-29 10:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 84,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porki_buns/pseuds/porki_buns
Summary: Hawke always puts on a little winter weight; he knows that but it's news to Fenris.





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh...I ate too much," Hawke groaned as he leaned back in his chair. And true, it was clear that he had eaten far too much. His belly clearly curved outwards from underneath his shirt, looking tight and uncomfortable. Fenris reached over, smoothing his palm over the outermost part of that curve and Hawke winced.  
  
"Gentle, gentle," Hawke moaned. "I'm delicate."  
  
Fenris smirked, but obliged.  
  
"You should have been more careful," he said, pressing gently in small circles. Hawke brought a hand up to his mouth to quietly stifle a burp. Assured that Fenris was going to be gentle with his _delicate_ state he relaxed into the touch, little belly jutting out and filling Fenris' palm. It was astonishing that he'd fit so much in there, even more intriguing was that he'd _want_ to. It was the holidays so naturally everyone had been taking their fill at the various dinners and extra seasonal treats, but Garrett had taken to eating this holiday season like a fish to water and Fenris wasn't sure at first if he was imagining it but this...was particularly outstanding.  
  
Fenris trailed his hand to the lower part of Garrett's belly and pressed in to the softer layer of pudge that'd started to stick the last few weeks.  
  
"Hey," Garrett said and swatted Fenris away. "I said be gentle."  
  
"You're getting a little soft, Hawke," Fenris said, voice coming out more than a little strained. He coughed, trying to cover how fucking vulnerable it had sounded because that was something they didn’t need to look into too hard. Of course, Garrett had caught it and peered down at where the smaller man was leaned in against him on the couch; not offended, but perhaps also just a little curious.  
  
"It's just some winter weight," he said factually. "But I guess it's the first time you'd really get a chance to properly notice. I'm like a bear.”  
  
"Short-sighted and lumbering?" Fenris teased. Garrett tipped his head back, laughing. A hand quickly reached up to cup his belly. He didn’t point out that tonight was only the first of the major autumnal holidays, and not truly one at that; this was the friends thanksgiving dinner. There was still dinner with Leandra in a few days.  
  
"Oh Maker, don't, I'm so full it hurts to laugh. It hurts to _breathe,"_ he said. Fenris took in a deep breath, watching as Hawke's large hand moved over the bulged out circumference of his stomach. He looked down, gauging its size for himself. "I look bloody pregnant."  
  
"Food baby," Fenris said dismissively, trying to keep the forlorn tone out of his voice. "You just need to sleep it off."  
  
Hawke laughed again.  
  
"Work it off, more like. It's a little early for me to be getting quite this thick," he said. But even as he spoke of trimming back down he sounded almost affectionate of the mass gathered in around his middle. "Still, it's the only baby we'll ever have so maybe I should work a bit harder on keeping it."  
  
Fenris snorted and resisted giving Hawke’s overstuffed belly a slap.

“You are—“

“Devilishly handsome? Incorrigible?”

“Drunk.”

“That too. But this is nothing, wait until you see me by Hallowe’en.”

“…is that a threat?”

“It’s a commitment.”

Fenris felt himself stop breathing in an effort not to react any further. Talking about Hawke’s ridiculously bloated gut was starting to make him uncomfortable. Or, more truthfully, horny, and in a way that he absolutely fucking was not used to. The people in the Free Marches and from Fereldan seemed more comfortable with a bit of extra weight around their middles but Fenris couldn't help but feel his trail of thought stepping ponderously over to the idea of Hawke _really_ filling out this winter season. Instead of seeing his jeans start to look a little tight, see his soft gut really have to lean out and over. Instead of thinking that his ass looked a little extra full and hot, seeing it widen and lead into thick, soft thighs. It wasn’t that people in Minrathous didn’t get fat, it just wasn’t in style and they were too uptight to do anything but follow trends nearly as badly as the Orlesians. Seeing someone as big as Hawke had been striking in the first place but seeing their tabletop hero with a bit of _extra_ was hitting chords that he didn’t even know he had.  
  
He was too easy of a read; Hawke was fucking grinning ear-to-ear.  
  
"Good to know I can still make you blush."  
  
Fenris gave a cruel pinch at Hawke's side, easily finding something substantial enough to grab at. Hawke yelped.  
  
"You're a beast," he muttered unconvincingly as Hawke shied away, feigning more hurt than Fenris could have possibly caused.  
  
"I'm a man of _standing_ now," Hawke protested.  
  
Fenris shifted, sitting up and straightening out his back from their nestled in place on the couch.  
  
"You work in the Viscount's office. As an assistant."  
  
"Yeah, doing Varric's dirty work; that practically makes me a war general. So much for that history degree. Though, it did make me a better D&D player."  
  
Fenris snorted, but couldn't disagree. After all, he was right in it with the man once a week for the past six damned years. But, it'd only been in the last three months that they started dated properly. He glanced at the clock ticking over the huge pile of drying dishes on the counter. Though it hurt to leave, he had duties and started to pick himself up off the couch.  
  
"Enjoy your stomach ache, Hawke, they need me in the archives tomorrow."  
  
Hawke looked aghast.  
  
"It’s Sunday tomorrow! Who in Andraste’s good name would be there on this holy weekend of shameless gorging?"  
  
Fenris shrugged.  
  
"Exactly; no one. Which means there are less people pestering us to dig up old-as-shit books for them. Or certain dungeon masters calling in the middle of work hours when I _know_ they should be working just as much as I am."  
  
Hawke waved one hand dismissively, the other stull cupping the exaggerated curve of his belly, cradling the evidence of his flagrant gluttony carefully. Fenris dropped his gaze and turned, not wanting to deal with that warm knot and how it tightened in the bottom of his own belly.  
  
"He's just trying to make it a better campaign," Hawke said, defending Varric's heavily researched world building. "You can't tell me you don't love to nerd out over demonology and obscure conspiracy crap about the Templar order. I've seen your face; you go in deep. Or at least when you're half a bottle of red in."  
  
"I didn't say I didn't like the game play," Fenris said diplomatically. "I'd be happy to do that for him outside of work hours."  
  
"He’s forbidden to ask outside of work, you spend enough time in there drowning in dusty books. It’s not even my rule, it’s his.”  
  
"I love my job."  
  
"And we love you. We even love _seeing_ you from time to time," Hawke teased as he stood up- belly first with a careful push off the couch—to give Fenris a kiss goodnight before he left. "No one should die all shrivelled up in a stack of books."  
  
"I appreciate the concern," Fenris said dryly. Focusing on the task at hand and not on how far Hawke's belly was bowed out and forcing his jeans go fit under the lower curve of his belly, he took his coat from beside the door and toed through the stack of boots at the door for his own pair. Hawke let his get dressed before he swooped in on him. Instinctively, Fenris’ hands fell down over to Hawke's sides. Curiously, he let his hands tighten as Hawke kissed him deeply. There was definitely more give. More correctly there _was_ some give at all to speak of. Three months ago Hawke had been all hard lean lines from a summer of running, swimming and hiking. Never quite a six pack but definitely as trim as a man as broad as him could be.  
  
Hawke broke the kiss with a grin and hovered close, reluctant to pull away.  
  
"I may be drunk and stuffed sick but I felt that, Fen," he said lowly. The husky tone sent a shock right down to his dick but Fenris remained completely still, desperately trying not to react. This was completely unjust. Until ten minutes ago he hadn't even really known that this was a _thing_ for him and here was Hawke leaning full into it just to torture him. He's always noticed bigger men and women a little more than others but Hawke was always bigger than him. But he hadn't been _soft._  
  
Vehedis.  
  
Fenris drew back, enough so that he could meet Hawke's eyes.  
  
"Felt what? You're practically skin and bones," he taunted. Hawke looked momentarily stunned at the bold claim and faltered for words. Having gotten the upper hand back, Fenris felt himself regain some of his calm, enough to calmly check his coat for his wallet and bus pass like nothing had transpired.  
  
Hawke chuckled.  
  
"Right," Garrett said. "Message received."  
  
He leaned in to give Fenris another kiss, softer than before.  
  
"Text me when you get home," he said.  
  
Fenris nodded and checked his phone. Realizing he had to run, he gave one last quick peck on the tall man's cheek before he rushed out the door. Behind him Hawke shouted for him to be careful but he was practically already out of earshot by time he could reply. The sidewalks were covered in frost and he slid a bit, but kept his knees locked; it’d be a forty minute wait for the next bus. By time he made it to the stop and caught the headlights rumbling down the hill, he nearly forgot the teasing conversation they'd struck up. However, when he got himself onto the bus and sunk down into a seat in the back for the thirty minute ride home he pulled out his phone and felt himself tense up again. Hawke had texted him already, which was not unusual but it was the content that sent a hot rush through him.  
  
_Sorry, forgot I bought this to share. Guess I'll just have to eat it for both of us._  
  
Attached was a nearly full pint of chocolate brownie fudge ice cream, a familiar culprit, with a single heaping scoop taken out of the top, the spoon in the shoot.  
  
Fenris glanced around him with the same panic he'd have back when Izzy'd send him nudes or model her new lingerie (okay, there was still a fair amount of both of those things but now it was a group chat with Garrett and more of a review process before it made it out to other viewers). But no one was looking and even if they'd seen there wasn't anything overtly illicit about a picture of a pint of ice cream. They didn't know how obscenely stuffed Hawke already was.  
  
_Sorry...too much? _Hawke texted, clearly concerned that maybe he was being off-putting. Fenris gave another look around but only caught his own drained expression in the dark window. He started texting back, going through a couple false starts before settling on his reply.  
  
_I'm sure you could finish that and the slice of pie left in the fridge._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly kink negotiation because it's nice to be on the same page.

Fenris woke up early, earlier than his alarm which wasn’t unusual. This morning was especially frustrating because being awake meant having to resume the stream of thought he'd been so eager to drop out of when he got home the night before. He sighed and turned his face back into his pillow. He felt weird about last night. Guilty? Embarrassed? He wasn't really sure because either way he'd definitely felt horny about it. He curled inwards as felt himself go flush replaying the evening in his head. Would it have been less bad if Hawke hadn't been so eager to play into it? And the way he'd goaded the gorged man on; dirty talk came easy to him but it wasn't exactly talking dirty to tell your boyfriend that you thought it was hot as shit to practically eat himself out of his fucking clothes. It was just blatantly perverted.  
  
He ground his teeth. Of all the kinks in the world, this had completely blindsided him and he was pissed about it. It was like something had just suddenly flicked on. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Hawke or if it’d always been there…but it was.  
  
He flipped onto his back and squinted through the dark, dissatisfied. There wasn't much Hawke could do that he wouldn't find hot as hell; he'd spent six years waiting for that to change. Or hoping that it would change because if it didn't change he'd have to own up or concede to copping out. But Hawke stayed the same, the whole time; a clumsy, sweet, brawny babe. It became torture. So he finally owned up.  
  
Fenris closed his eyes. Things were the same and not the same; they still saw each other almost every day, the difference being that they had sex. He talked about his life before Kirkwall a little more there were things that he couldn’t put words too. Still, it never seemed to be too much for Garrett. Fenris knew his life had been fucked up, he always knew that. Dealing with it was the biggest change and that started before him and Hawke started officially dating. The problem with dealing with everything meant opening his brain up to all the things he'd never had the time to think about before.  
  
But why...the _fuck_ did that mean a feedism kink. And yeah, he knew what it was, he had the internet and enough experience in the kink community trying to solve trauma with elaborate sex rituals to come across it more than once. Add in that he had been poor enough a few times to try and succeed in cam work; he’d been asked about plenty of things he wouldn’t have thought of for himself. He needed to know what Garrett’s level of knowledge was though. He seemed to know more than Fenris had every given him credit for in that department.  
  
One nice thing about waiting so six years to make a move you really had a chance to know someone. Talking about it was not going to be the most outlandish conversation they'd ever had.  
  
Still; _feedism?_ Of all the Maker-forsaken things it couldn't just be a regular affinity for anal beads or nipple clamps or some shit? Lingerie? Paddles? Flogging?  
  
Nope. It was his boyfriend’s bloated, furry belly sticking out like a loving testament to domesticated debauchery. This made the couple times they tried ropes look like a boyscout merit badge assignment. At least most kinks their own reserved, separated spaces to kept themselves apart from the rest of your life. This one though, the access was everywhere.  
  
Why couldn't he just be well-balanced and relaxed enough for bondage?  
  
His alarm finally caught up and he reached over to his phone to silence it. He turned onto his side and opened up his chat with Hawke. Before he could let himself think about it too hard he sent a simple message.  
  
_Embarrassed. We need to talk about last night._  
  
He turned off the screen and put the phone back on his table. Hawke wouldn't be up for at least a few more hours. Maybe longer if he really did make it through that entire pint of ice cream on top of the whole pre-Thanksgiving feast. Fenris bit at his lip in an attempt to distract himself from thinking about how his boyfriend had glutted himself so much that he needed to sleep off the bloat like a contented pig. And if that little bit if extra padding was saying anything, some of that bloat wasn't going anywhere soon. How much weight had he gained, anyways? More than usual, he'd said. Fenris tried to think back to the year previous and if he remembered if Hawke had put on some winter weight. He wouldn't lie about it. Fenris had just been too enamoured to see anything but the big shining beacon that was the unfathomable kindness and patience of Garrett Hawke.  
  
Purely out of morbid curiosity, Fenris pulled out his scale. He'd always had a pretty consistent weight himself as an adult but with Hawke's belly taking shape the way it was almost without notice he felt it merited a quick evaluation. Looking down at him as the digital display mulled it over he didn't think anything was different. Still, he held his breath maybe worried and maybe excited but as the number flicked back up to him it was the same as it had always been. Tallish, lanky and sitting at 154 pounds, give or take the odd ounces.  
  
Relieved in a way he'd examine later, he stepped off and tucked it back in the cupboard and got on with his morning routine. There really was a serious back log in the university archives and he looked forward to having the quiet to get through it. Mid-terms had made a big uptick in requests, as it always did, to dig up obscure reference material. It was long work but it was methodical and he did love archives, what it meant to build and shape them. And it beat working at a library which was dealing with a lot of people with no screen to mediate between them.  
  
Once he'd showered, eaten some toast and an apple and made the bus to the university he was able to put aside thinking about the night previous. Whatever came of their conversation was only going to help.  
  
He took an early lunch and still hadn't gotten a text from Hawke so it wasn't until late in the afternoon that he saw the notification at all. It took him a moment to muster up the nerves to face it but he opened up the message and snorted.  
  
**Hawke:**_ Not embarrassed, have never been embarrassed in my entire life but yes we should probably talk about that. Can I come over tonight?_  
  
Fenris looked over to the massive file transfer happening on his screen and tried to gauge when it'd actually be done.  
  
**Fenris:**_ Be home at seven at the latest._  
  
**Hawke:**_ Didn't you go early?  
  
_**Fenris:**_ Yes.  
_  
**Hawke:** _Did you sleep at all?__  
  
_**Fenris**_**:** I slept enough.  
  
_**Hawke:** _:(_  
  
Fenris scowled down at the screen, matching the emoji Hawke had sent. Before he'd probably have left it but that had been a topic of discussion too many times already. Fenris huffed.  
  
**Fenris**:_ Fine. Six.  
_  
**Hawke:** _:D_  
  
Fenris rolled his eyes but felt a warm curl creep up through him. These messages really weren't too different from what they'd been before but they felt more grounded now. It wasn't ambiguous affection anymore. Fenris scowled into the screen. It wasn't ambiguous anymore because now they were going to talk about their apparently stranger than previously given credit for sex life.  
  
_Whatever._ Fenris flicked his eyes up to the progress bar on the screen and quashed down the urge to scream. They needed new computers; a projected two-hour, three minutes and forty-five--no, twenty-three second transfer was fucking ridiculous. He pushed back in his chair and moved to open his email on another monitor. With the holiday weekend there wasn't much happening except for a few messages from the crowd that tended to frantically message with timestamps in the three am range.  
  
He clicked open the message that was there though, addressed specifically to him and not more generally to the university. It was someone fielding the question of if he had time for an extra contract at a video archive downtown. He leaned back, crossing his arms. He and Hawke had talked about going somewhere for vacation in January to maybe escape some of the cold. He'd wanted to go to the Arbor Wilds for years now. They could rent a car, drive down.  
  
He added it to the evenings' topics of discussion; _Hey, Garrett, you getting fat turns me on; unrelated, want to go on vacation and do this trip I've obsessed over ever since I learned the place existed?_  
  
Average topics, completely. Fenris glanced at the clock. There were still a couple hours before he even left. He wanted to talk to Isabela and try to figure out how he even wanted to talk about this later. Before Hawke, he and Izzy had sex without ever being romantic for years and that had always made space for a certain kind of trust between them. She wouldn't be disgusted with this. She'd probably think it was quaint.  
  
He set aside the impulse. The Isabela/Garrett boundary needed clear distinctions, they all knew that and talking with Hawke first was a part of that.  
  
He set his attention back to work, pleased with the headway he was able to make in the temporarily deserted archive.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
"So..." Hawke started. Fenris had gotten home a little after six and Hawke was already in his apartment. "Uh...so it's dinner and I'm hungry and I sort of wanted to talk about last night before eating with you just because it might be weird and--"  
  
"Hawke," Fenris cut in. "I haven't eaten since before noon. I'm going to make dinner; curry?"  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
"Cut the vegetables."  
  
Fenris was too hungry to hold a conversation without getting short with Hawke at the moment, but thankfully they seemed to be on the same page. He set about preparing the meat and melting down the flavour packet in a pot while Hawke kept busy chopping the veggies.  
  
They'd cooked together long before they gotten together and the rhythm was easy and familiar. Any nerves Fenris felt about talking about the night before had mostly dissipated the moment he saw Hawke; they had something easy between them once he was ready to let it be.  
  
It didn't take long to finish and the rice cooker ticked off about the same time as they had the curry ready. Hawke started serving them both and gave him a hard look as he handed over his plate.  
  
"Why didn't you eat sooner, by the way? Lunch was a long time ago."  
  
"I was busy," Fenris stated simply. And he _had_ been and that was always when he’d hyper focus and neglect everything else. He was well-practiced at working through hunger. He wondered if that was part of why realising Hawke putting on a bit of weight had gotten him bothered like that. There was something forbidden about it to him. For himself, food was merit based or something he could manage without. He knew it was unhealthy. Seeing someone so relaxed with themselves had always piqued his interest. He looked down at the plate Hawke handed him and he knew it wasn't intentional but the serving was much more than he'd be able to finish. He didn't say anything and took it and went to the table and waited for Hawke to join him.  
  
As he waited, he gave Hawke an evaluating look over. Objectively, he didn't look much different. Now that he wasn't so outrageously bloated from a large meal, the extra weight was entirely hidden by his sweater. But by his own admission and by what Fenris had felt for himself, he knew that softness was there, a layer of fat covering over his belly and a little extra give to his ass.  
  
Garrett shifted his weight, said ass looking full and enticing and as spectacular as ever. Garrett wasn’t just a person of astonishing kindness, he was also actually handsome by every measure. He looked like he'd stepped out of a smutty romance novel; brawny, robust and strong-armed. Everything Fenris was not. His body had always been strong but wiry, but he’d never had any real gravity to himself. Cut-to why he played an elf with a giant sword in their D&D games because he’d admit to compensating for his own lacking qualities.  
  
Hawke finally turned and came to join him. Looking down at the man's plate Fenris frowned. It was an average portion for him, maybe sensitive to the discussion for the evening but that wasn't what he noticed first.  
  
"Were you taking so long because you were picking out the mushrooms?"  
  
"...they're slimy."  
  
"I could have skipped them."  
  
Hawke shook his head.  
  
"You like them. I'm a grown man, Fenris, I can be a fussy eater all on my own."  
  
It was meant as a joke but they all faltered because the easiest jibe to hit back with was that there was no way that Hawke anyone would ever call Hawke a fussy eater, especially not with the way he’d put on enough weight over the last three and a half months to make a difference worth talking about. But that was semantics.  
  
"Let's eat," he said instead, breaking the pause and smiling warmly.  
  
They dug in and Fenris was he was grateful to get something in him after a long day in the archives. It was so easy to lose track in there. He was even almost late leaving simply because he'd gotten caught up again.  
  
They chatted about their days over dinner, the conversation light. Hawke had slept in then gone over to his mother's to help install a new dishwasher, then went and ran some errands for her.  
  
Fenris loved this easy chatter; Hawke never expected him to add in much and for such a gregarious type, was never uncomfortable when the conversation went quiet. That was a part of what Fenris had found so off-putting about him for so long; who had the right to being so comfortable? At least over the course of getting to know him it became clear that being comfortable and remiss of whatever three or so mental health disorders he had for himself didn't mean perfection. Hawke was far from perfect. Fenris smirked, remembering when Hawke stayed way too long being indecisive about his life and managed a dragons and fairies themed in a mall. He was always good with the staff but absolutely did not stand for them being chewed by customers who wanted to lecture on the nuances of scrying and smudging or took way too fucking long choosing the right crystal.  
  
"What are you thinking about?"  
  
Fenris smiled.  
  
"Remember that guy, who kept coming back to the emporium and trying to recruit you and your staff to join him on that medieval retreat as a professional development exercise?"  
  
Hawke grimaced.  
  
"Ugh, I still see him around sometimes."  
  
"What was the retreat called again?"  
  
"The bone pit! I mean be had to know how that sounded? Blessed Andraste, Seamus was sixteen and I wasn't sure if I was protecting the kid from standard grade new age bullshit or from joining a pagan sex cult."  
  
Fenris laughed.  
  
"Both, probably."  
  
"That child is too trusting."  
  
"He's just open-minded."  
  
"I heard he went off to roam the countryside last summer with one of those Qunari fellows."  
  
"Sounds romantic."  
  
Hawke shrugged.  
  
"For his father's sake, I hope that's all it is. The old man can't handle another shock I don't think."  
  
There was a pause between them and they’d both eaten enough to have the mental function to properly talk. Fenris took a deep breath. When nothing quite came out he cleared his throat and tried again.  
  
"So...last night."  
  
Garrett leaned forward a moment, gathering his wits. When he sat up his expression had shifted to one of worry.  
  
"I'm so sorry if that was too much. I didn’t plan it. You got so flustered and I got carried away because I was having fun. I didn’t want to upset you.”  
  
Fenris shook his head and stared down at his hand, finger picking at an edge of peeling vinyl on the old fold out table. This was already not the conversation he was expecting to have around this. Garrett was so affable that he hadn’t even really thought of how the conversation would worry him too. But he knew there wasn’t going to be a simple answer so in a way that would make his therapist proud, he tried to reciprocate and say what he was thinking.  
  
"I wasn't upset. It was just...a lot to think about," he tried. He sighed and looked up. "It was really unexpected. And hot. And I don't entirely know why so I feel confused. Have you ever..."  
  
"Eaten enough to feed a small army and then tease my boyfriend about it? No. Have I ever thought about it? No, but the way you reacted just sort of...made it easy."  
  
Fenris gave Hawke a suspicious look.  
  
"You were pretty good at it."  
  
"Hey, so were you."  
  
"I used to do cam work, remember? I got paid for it."  
  
"To eat?" Hawke asked and gave him a dubious look over.  
  
Fenris shook his head.  
  
"To encourage people to eat past their limits. I tried water bloats for a few people but I didn't like how it felt. Or feeling like I had to piss for an hour afterwards. The couple feeder clients I did have seemed happy with me jerking off on screen for them and telling them they were hot though."  
  
"And were they hot?" Hawke asked, a bit of a pink tinge creeping up over his face. Fenris had always been upfront about his cam work but it was still so far from Hawke's own experiences that he'd get flustered about it. Which, Fenris liked because camming and sex work wasn't a part of his life anymore and be didn't want it to feel normal. Hawke shook his head and regained composure. "Sorry, I mean...was that something you found attractive?"  
  
Fenris leaned back in his chair and thought about it. There'd been a handsome guy from Nevarra that'd he'd cam'd with long enough to watch him stack on fifty pounds and then lose it all again when his family put pressure on him to marry. But had he ever thought it was hot the way it was with Hawke? Not really. It'd been interesting. And he hadn’t really been in the frame of mind at the time to think about it too hard. The camming had always been a job because he needed money and because he needed that screen to protect him the way that hustling couldn’t. So he shook his head.  
  
"I don't know. It was just a job. One that I never really liked doing, but those guys were some of the easier ones."  
  
Hawke nodded and thought about what he wanted to say next and Fenris was glad that he was taking this seriously.  
  
"But...last night did something for you, right? I mean you're...incredibly good at sex but I don't usually see you get all flustered like that."  
  
Fenris felt himself blush and turned his head abruptly to try and hide it.  
  
"Or like right now," Hawke said gently.  
  
"I don't know why," Fenris said lowly. He felt the heat creep over his whole body, skin feeling tingly and all he wanted was to have Hawke take him to bed and let him feel his broad, heavy body on him while he imagined all the ways he might grow bigger. It was so hard to imagine with Hawke already being such a naturally large person. The idea of him getting bigger fascinated him.  
  
Fenris crammed his face into his palm and groaned.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's fucked up."  
  
Hawke made a sympathetic sound and Fenris looked up. The big man was wringing his hands in his lap and being careful with what he said. Fenris felt a wash of anger go over him. It was misplaced but he hated being the person people had to be careful with.  
  
"I haven't been... trying to make you gain weight," Fenris added quickly as the anger shifted over to shame and panic. “Or if I have it…it wasn’t a conscious thing.”  
  
At that, Hawke smiled.  
  
"Please, Fen, I know. I just really love eating. I told you, this happens every year."  
  
"But you said it was more than usual."  
  
Hawke shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, but some of its relationship weight too. I feel more relaxed around you and then...instead of getting all sweaty and embarrassed and worried about every dumb shit thing that crosses my pea brain I just, eat, I guess."  
  
Fenris barked a laugh.  
  
"So before you were skinny because I made you too nervous to eat?"  
  
Hawke gave a withering look.  
  
"I've never been that skinny. At least not since I was a gawky teenager. But I filled out and I look a lot less dweeby because of it. Apparently I even look kind of hot if your testimony is anything to go by. Oh, I should put together a scrapbook of testimonials. For posterity. Make up for how pathetic my high school year book was. Call it _The Gare-Bear Years_.”  
  
This time when Fenris laughed he did it because he really was amused. He'd seen pictures—endless pictures, thank-you Leandra—of Hawke as a teenager. And yeah, he'd been a peaky looking geek with patchy facial hair and _exactly_ the kind of kid you knew was playing D&D in their hippy stoner mom's basement. How he survived high school was a mystery unless you knew Aveline.  
  
"Right. But Hawke, how...did _you_ feel about last night?"  
  
"Well, really sexy, and then I _did_ finish that whole pint and tried to go in on the pie but by then I felt regret more than anything else. Turns out, there is a threshold, diminishing returns and all."

Hawke was flapping his hands around, rambling but honest.

Fenris loved Hawke. He knew that for a long time but it was moments like these where he knew that he _really_ loved him. With anyone else, where a monetary exchange was not a factor or if they weren't someone like Izzy'd who'd also been "in the industry", this conversation would have made him feel humiliated. At some point he probably would have just stopped speaking or if he was lucky, find the wherewithal to walk out. But no part of him wanted to walk away from this. Garrett's honestly sometimes came off as insensitive if you didn't know him but to Fenris it had always been grounding.  
  
"Then, the other questions are if you like it enough that you think you'll do it again, or keep doing it, and if you want me to be a part of that."

Hawke leaned over, shoulders slumping in relief.  
  
"Oh, you're so good at this. I was sweating all day,” he said. “So, I think it will happen again whether I mean to do it or not, I do like it and I...I definitely liked having you be a part of it."  
  
"Okay. I...liked it too. A lot."  
  
"More than a lot judging by the boner you had."  
  
"I didn’t—barely."  
  
Hawke laughed.  
  
"Sure, but if you didn’t have to leave to go get the bus we were definitely going to have sex. Very, very careful sex because if you weren't going to be careful I definitely would have puked ,which, and maybe I'm just wild, but I'd find…not sexy at all."  
  
"Er, same."  
  
"Right good, vomit off the table—but we were definitely going to have sex with me all stuffed up like I was some kind of build-a-bitch."  
  
At that Fenris balked. It was rare that Hawke could get him feeling scandalized with his dirty talk but holy _shit._  
  
"Did you talk to Isabela today about this?" Fenris asked.  
  
Hawke shook his head.  
  
"No, but before I went to be a good son I was on the internet preparing for this conversation. There were some very nice people but that stuck out."  
  
Fenris raked back his hair off his face.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you came prepared."  
  
"I figured it'd be nice for you to not have to explain everything. I just figured if there were weird sexy feelings that I was having that I wouldn’t be the only one because I’m really not that creative. So, you know, thank-you fellow internet perverts for validating me. And now I'm so much more well-informed on even more than I went looking for, which I’m less grateful for.”  
  
"What else did you see?" Fenris asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying not to laugh.  
  
"Well, not into vore. Or if I am its like, it makes me giggle and I do love a good comedy. Definitely not into slob stuff...I hate cleaning so why would I make more mess? And air inflation is a little over the top to me.”  
  
"But eating until you practically pop? That's good?"  
  
Hawke laced his fingers together and leaned back, looking thoughtful.  
  
"Hm...yep. Definitely into that."  
  
Fenris shifted uncomfortably. Talking out your kinks was all well and good but there was something a little more unique to this one that he had some degree of personal experience with.  
  
"It'll change your body. In a way that you can't hide; are you okay with that?" he asked.  
  
Hawke's expression softened.  
  
"It's...yeah, it’s okay, Fen. I'm still in control of my body. It's not like..."  
  
"My tattoos. Okay. I just wanted to..."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I mean, I thought about it too and I don't want to go totally nuts or anything but it felt good and if it means getting a little, or a lot, squishy...I'm curious enough to let it be the course of things. I'll tell you if that changes."  
  
"Please do."  
  
"I promise."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Promise you'll still think I'm hot if I end up looking like a sad whale?"  
  
Fenris scoffed and got up so that he could clamber on top of Hawke in his chair. It was awkward but he needed to be _touching_ the man for fuck sakes.  
  
"There's nothing that'd ever make me think you weren't hot as fuck."  
  
"Even if I get so fat there's no room for you to climb up on me like this?"  
  
"Promises, promises," Fenris said, moving his hips and watching Hawke's eyes dilate. He paused. "So, teasing?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Praise?"  
  
"You know I love to be spoiled."  
  
Fenris cupped Hawke's face with his hand turning his head up. He thought about the man's jawline blurring, about how much it'd take until he started looking like he had a beard to hide a double-chin. But he was also just happy; happy that this man was his.  
  
"You're so beautiful."  
  
Hawke smirked.  
  
"Still second place when you're in the room."  
  
"Cheesy."  
  
"Oh, I love cheese. Makes me gassy though."  
  
Fenris crumpled over, burying his head against Hawke's throat. Hawke's other flaw; professional mood killer. Fenris took a breath and recollected himself. Hawke squirmed a little underneath him, making more room to support him in his lap. Fuck, how fat would Hawke have to be for to really not fit? He pushed the thought aside and straightened up. They were so close to finishing this conversation.  
  
"So, what's the plan. If you have one," he asked, slinging his arms over Hawke’s broad shoulders.  
  
Hawke tapped his fingers on Fenris' hips, mulling it over.  
  
"I don't want to obsess but like...just do what I want and revaluate after Christmas. If I end up hating it, well, I guess we’ll know what my new year's resolution will be."  
  
"Sounds like a good plan to me."  
  
Hawke nodded.  
  
"Yep."  
  
He paused and then more quickly than Fenris had time to properly react to was lifting him up and packing him over to the bedroom. Fenris clung on tightly because it wasn’t the most elegant of moves but laughed and focused on ducking his head at the right parts of the hallway. Once they were in the bedroom Hawke set him down carefully and they shuffled back together on the bed.  
  
"My plan for _tonight_ which was based upon how this conversation went," he continued, "was that first I want to ravish you. There's a scene in Izzy's new book and I swear that woman was writing friend fiction again, so I must honour that. Then when I've finished with that, there's a new bougie ice cream place near here that I saw last week and I want to try it."  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Yep, they do sundaes with the works and then some, and have at least three variations on pumpkin spiced themed treats. And it wouldn't hurt to grab some snacks on the way home."  
  
Fenris scowled.  
  
"Pumpkin spice? Really?"  
  
Hawke shrugged.  
  
"I’m basic. A normie. You know this."  
  
"You...just. Get on with the ravishing."  
  
"Okay, well, I'm not totally sure about the physical logistics she described but I will do my damnedest. Apologies in advance and definitely tell me if you do not have the flexibility of that kid in the Exorcist."  
  
Now Fenris was actually worried.

“I’m not sure we should be taking cues for our sex life from Isabela’s books.”

Hawke moved his hand off Fenris’ thigh, and grabbed at the soft layer of fat on his own belly and gave it a pinch. It was more than a little and Fenris really, _really_ wanted to ask just how much weight Hawke had put on already.

“Because on our own we do so much better?” he asked imploringly. Bent over the way he was made his stomach look even softer and Fenris bit at his own lip. What he wanted to do was nip at that little bit of pudginess and suck hickies into it. He wanted to doordash all the desserts that Hawke wanted to eat tonight and make his belly arch out and go tight with everything that they could stuff into it.  
  
But one thing at a time.

This was…going to drive him crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke takes eating on in earnest but promises not to make Fenris lose his shit at Thanksgiving dinner with his mother. They end up having awkward-ish-sex-in-childhood-bedroom anyways.
> 
> note: I didn't skip Hallowe'en, I'm just above the 49th parallel.

They were eating a late breakfast when Fenris realized that with all the talking they'd done the night before that he'd completely forgotten about the contract he'd been offered.

"Hawke, can you get time off in January?"

Hawke chewed while he thought but frowned and Fenris already felt himself trying to pick another date.

"Honestly, I don't know. I have two weeks of vacation every year but...well, what are you asking."

"I got offered a contract downtown to help digitize an archive at an art gallery. It's three months and pays pretty well; I was thinking of renting a car and taking a trip when it was over."

Garrett's expression brightened.

"You're going to take an actual vacation?"

"Yes. And if you can...it'd be nice to go together."

"I--wait, what about the university?"

"I'll still be there. It's thirty-two hours there and then this would be an extra sixteen. But only for three months."

"That's almost a fifty hour work week! A vacation would be nice but is it worth practically killing yourself to get to it?"

Fenris shrugged.

"I've done worse."

"That doesn't mean you have to do slightly less worse? And, I mean...I'll hardly get to see you until then."

Fenris frowned and nodded.

"Izzy referred me to them and it sounds like they're in over their heads. It's a queer video archive and it'd be nice to help the community. It's that place that does the drag bingo."

Garrett sighed and slumped forward.

"Fine, fine, go be a pillar of the gay community and I'll blame this year’s seasonal depression on Isabela,” he said, sighing dramatically.

"I'll still come to game night. And it's near your work."

Hawke straightened up and smiled. He was clearly disappointed and Fenris immediately thought about maybe turning down the contract. But Hawke shook his head, already guessing at what he was thinking.

"I'm happy for you. Really. I'll make sure I can get time off in the new year."

Fenris nodded, relieved. It was going to be a lot of work and Hawke was probably right to be concerned. But he actually did want to do it the more that he thought about it.

"Thank-you," he said quietly.

"Fenris," Hawke said. Fenris looked up. "I love you."

Fenris flushed and shifted uncomfortably. It still felt new to hear that and even though he loved Hawke more than he'd ever loved anyone it was still hard to say back. He cleared his throat.

"I love you too, Garrett."

Garrett grinned at him.

"Oh, I know," he said and coated the last of his bacon in the remaining syrup on his plate. Hawke had woken up apparently ravenous despite the truly impressive amount of dessert he'd worked through the night before. Fenris wasn't even sure that the previous meal's bloat had gone down. He stared openly at the way Hawke's stomach jutted out dramatically from his ribcage.

"That was so good," Hawke said and gently patted his stuffed middle, looking deeply satisfied. He felt his own stomach twist at the bizarre excitement that came with witnessing the sheer force of will Garrett seemed to command to get as much food as he could into himself. He'd wondered if Garrett might ease into this self-assigned mission to stuff himself silly at every meal but it seemed like taking the stops off and careening into it was more his style. It wasn't going to take long at all to see a real difference if he kept it up.

"But," Garrett went on brightly, "I still have that pumpkin spice ice cream sandwich."

Fenris glanced at the clock.

"Do you plan to leave any room for dinner at your mother’s tonight?"

"It'll be fine," Hawke assured, standing to go to the freezer, his large hand splayed across his stomach. It poked out but wasn't enough to hang or even look all that soft. Right now, it looked tight as a drum through his shirt and pulled smooth around the crest as Hawke continued to rub soothing circles over it. Fenris wondered if Hawke actually would leave some time to make room for what promised to be an extravagant, albeit vegetarian, thanksgiving dinner at his mothers or if he was just going to snack all day.

Fenris got his answer as they settled back in bed and watched some true crime documentary before he went to work; Hawke polished off the ice cream and ate another pancake smeared with jam then fell back asleep with Fenris idly rubbing his belly for him in soothing circles.

Fenris wondered how the weight would spread out if Hawke kept stuffing himself like this; if he even could keep stuffing himself like this. This kind of eating was a commitment. The client he'd had back in his cam days had a serious eating regiment that frankly seemed stressful. But Hawke genuinely seemed to enjoy the food he was eating and letting himself eat a larger quantity was just an extension of that. He'd probably slow down during the weekdays but maybe that wasn't bad; gaining weight so quickly might not be the healthiest thing.

Fenris leaned in to the back of Hawke's shoulder and but lightly. With no response he gave him a light shake.

"Garrett, I have to go to work," he said.

_That_ elicited a response and suddenly Garrett was turning around and pinning him in place, (thicker?) thighs over his stomach and elbows caging in around him.

"It's a holiday,” he said, his voice pleading. “Are you even allowed like...with overtime?"

"I'm not clocking it as overtime, I'm clocking it as I'm going to fucking lose my mind if I don't try to knock down some of the backlog."

Garrett dropped down on him gently and groaned.

"You're so hot and responsible. But overworked. And I worry."

"Don't worry," Fenris said easily. He set his hands on Hawke's hips, first with the intention of easing him back off of him but he couldn't help himself and instead slide his hands up over Garrett's sides. The man was always bigger than him so it was hard to say if he noticed all that much difference but like he'd done the other night he gave an appraising squeeze.

"I look forward to having more to come home to every day," Fenris said lowly. Hawke stopped breathing a moment, maybe caught off guard. He caught up quick though.

"Won't be long if I keep starting off so strong," he replied. As he spoke he pressed down onto Fenris, rubbing his stuffed belly down onto him. His cock twitched in interest and he slide his hands back down over Hawke's ass and squeezed. He could already feel Hawke's dick going hard against his thigh.

"How many pancakes did you eat?" Fenris asked despite knowing exactly how many; it was three and they weren't small by any measure and certainly not after the butter, jam and fruit Hawke had loaded on top of them. Then it was four with the one he'd had with the jam afterwards. Plus the icecream.

_Venhedis._

"Maybe not enough," Hawke said instead of giving a number and now Fenris was starting to lose his cool, not at all helped by the soft kisses Hawke was starting to press into his throat. "It's already almost lunch."

Fenris groaned and started to clamber out if bed. Hawke let him, for the most part, half-heartedly trying to coax him to stay, his hand leaving him only at the last possible moment.

"I have to go," he said. He grabbed his jeans and started tugging them on, trying not to look at Hawke all sated and heavy in the bed.

"I suppose I shall languish and waste away alone."

Fenris scoffed. Clearly that was not happening any time soon.

"Is it a Hawke family trait to be overly dramatic?"

Hawke turned onto his side, giving a full and tempting view of his middle. Fenris wanted to crawl back in bed and offer some help while Hawke worked his way through whatever ridiculously greasy fried thing he wound up having for lunch. Something for a different day.

"You've met Carver. Maybe it's just the male lineage."

Fenris scowled.

"Is he coming to your mother's tonight?"

"He’d better."

_"He’d better_ not ask about my tattoos again. Or try to show me his."

Hawke sat up, his stomach rounding out in front of him looking warm and enticing. But his expression had shifted.

"He won't, I promise. But if he does I'm sure even mother won't mind if you give him what's coming. Oh but, uh, violence is not the answer. Probably. Just don’t go to hard on him, I guess is all that I can ask.”

Fenris yanked a shirt on, one torn at the seam of the stretched out color; a favourite item that was more for the emotional attachment now rather than the actual warmth it offered. He paused before heading out the door and leaned against the frame.

"Uhm, about tonight," he said.

"Are you bailing?"

"What? No. Carver's an idiot but—well, he's an idiot. No I...just with all the food--"

"And booze."

"Yes. I wanted to ask you to at least not _intentionally_ tease me with," he gestured at Hawke to indicate what? Blatant gluttony? He waved his hand between them, feeling better with implicating himself as a part of this budding exchange between them. _"This_...in front of your family."

Hawke blushed, full body and in a protective motion cupped the outmost curve of his belly.

"I—yes. No, I wasn't planning to. Shocking though it may be, I have a few boundaries."

"I know. But for the sake of clarity."

"Yep, loud and clear. I'll pick you up after work? I'm doing car-to-go today, mother's got me running last minute errands."

“Okay,” Fenris said, walking forward and lightly placing his hand on the side of Hawke’s taxed waist and kissing him quickly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

  
  
Cut to dinner and Hawke might not have been _trying_ to tease him but with his stomach bloated out somehow even worse than it'd been earlier in the day and Hawke just drunk enough to be careless, Fenris was trying not to squirm in his seat at the sight of him.

Though, everyone seemed to preoccupied with tending to their own overfull stomachs; the Hawke family did not hold back when it came to holiday meals and even Fenris felt himself being tested. Leandra had kept dropping more food on his plate and fussing if he didn't eat it. Gingerly, he subtly pressed his fingers against his stomach underneath the tabled; it was bowed out and taut. Beside Hawke, Carver had shamelessly unbuttoned his jeans and Bethany was leaning back in her chair trying to get comfortable. She'd been away for school and as ever, came back at least another ten pounds heavier. Bethy had never been a thin girl as far as Fenris knew but she seemed lately to be passing the stages of curvy and plump. Even without looking down she had a double chin that seemed to have gotten thicker since he'd last seen her. Fenris drifted his gaze back over to Garrett; would he fill out as steadily as his sister?

"More wine, dear?" Leandra asked blithely. Fenris bit his lip; he'd eaten enough that he actually wasn't especially drunk. He obliged, carefully leaning forward with his cup. His stomach was packed uncomfortably tight and he wondered why Hawke enjoyed this so much. Glancing at his boyfriend, he looked completely blissed out, hand stroking the forced outward curve of his gut. Fenris quickly looked away.

"Garrett said you're taking some extra work," Leandra said, pouring liberally. Fenris gave her a suspicious look, which she pointedly ignored. "Are you sure you'll be alright? A 50 hour work week is no easy feat to accomplish. I don't think I've done it since these ones were still small."

"What kind of work did you do?" Fenris asked, desperate to distract himself from Garrett but also genuinely interested.

Leandra grimaced.

"Split time between a meat processing plant and cleaning rooms after their father passed,” she said, sounding weary from the memory alone. “But we got ourselves through.”

Money was recent for then Hawke family; something about an inheritance that Leandra had assumed she'd been written out of. It hadn't been a small amount. They bought back the old family home and Bethy and Carver were both nearly done their degrees.

Glancing around the table, Fenris couldn't help but get that a sense of relief had come with the inheritance and never really left. They were a content family. Garrett and Leandra still had spats here and there; the twins had been young when their father passed so he'd naturally fallen into a parental role with them and both he and Leandra seemed often to forget that the twins were old enough to handle themselves for the most part. When they'd first met, he'd thought Hawke was a bit sloppy and careless but the more he got to know him it was clear that he stressed easily and was almost excessively methodical when it came to getting anything done. He was the most dependable person he knew.

Fenris took a sip of his wine, giving a careful look over at Hawke. He looked relaxed and unconcerned and Fenris felt a piece of this bizarre puzzle click into place. Seeing Hawke letting go of some of that control meant that he was comfortable.

Everyone was overfull and migrated over to the living room to watch a movie. Fenris held back to help Leandra clean up, trying to ignore the discomfort of his own stuffed belly. Leandra had been wary of him at first but as she chattered on about the different mulled wine recipes she'd tried leading up to the holidays, clearly the hesitancy had passed.

When they finished, she pulled out the bowls they'd just cleaned from the drying rack and pulled out several bags of snacks to bring out to watch the movie with.

Hawke leaned forward to catch a bag chocolate covered almonds.

"Oooh, dibs," he said happily, evidentally making no plans to share. Fenris quickly looked away as he watched Hawke wince at the motion. He took a seat on the floor beside him, resolutely putting his attention on the movie and not his gorged out boyfriend behind him.

"This movie is the worst," Bethany said from the chair beside him holding out the bowl of party mix Leandra had made herself. Despite his own protesting stomach he took a handful, feeling the matriarch’s watchful eye on him. "Have you seen it before?"

Fenris frowned and glanced at the screen.

"What is it?"

"That Cullen Rutherford movie, where he's a knight."

"A Templar," Carver corrected.

"Whatever. He's chasing down innocent witches but is the hero for some reason."

"Mages," Carver corrected again. "And he thinks they're evil because he trusts his corrupt knight-captain, Meredith. And some of them _are_ evil.”

Bethany rolled her eyes. Glancing at the screen a large CGI fireball has just passed the hero's head. The CGI had more or less held up.

"He's got such lovely eyes," Leandra said dreamily.

_”Mom,”_ Bethany groaned.

“And lovely legs.”

“I don’t know, that big horn-headed bloke was pretty hot,” Garrett said. “Perky nipples.”

Bethany violently pitched a pillow over at her older brother’s face.

The family went on like this for a while, going on and over the movie and Fenris let himself sink back against the couch. He rest his head against Hawke's leg and by time the credits had come up, realized that he'd fallen asleep in spots throughout the movie. Bethany dozed, curled up in her chair. As he got up, Carver realized it and covered his sister with a blanket and reminded Fenris that he wasn't always insufferable.

Everyone else made their way to their respective sleeping situations and as the door closed behind them to Hawke's childhood bedroom he came up flush against Garrett's back and carefully laid his hands over the man's tight gut. The bag of almonds had been demolished, as was a bowl of caramel corn.

"You're so full," Fenris growled quietly, mindful of the rest of the Hawke family being in the home. Garrett leaned back into him, pressing his belly into his hands.

"Ate too much," he confessed in a low whimper. "I just couldn't stop myself."

_"Greedy,"_ Fenris said, nuzzling in against Garret's back. "You're going to get so fat and you've just started."

Garrett rocked slightly and Fenris opened his palms wide, spreading them over the bulge of his boyfriend’s belly. It was hot and tight, even the softness that was already gathered below his belly button barely perceptible to the touch because of how filled up he was.

"Everything just tasted so good, I wanted to eat more," Garrett whined.

Fenris paused before speaking.

"Do you think you could eat more?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "For me?"

"Oh, I might pop," Garrett whined. Fenris smoothed his hands downwards and found the button of his jeans, stretched outward and forced underneath the curve of Garrett's stomach. He undid it with some trouble given the tightness and marvelled that the man hadn't already undone it. Garrett whimpered in relief as a little more space freed up.

"How about now?"

There was a pause where Garrett thought about it.

"Bring me what's left of that pumpkin pie. With the coconut cream."

Fenris immediately obliged, feeling his own body practically humming with anticipation. He made it down and back without attracting the attention of the rest of the family. When he arrived back to the room, he practically dropped everything. Hawke was propped up with some pillows against the wall, his full belly on proud display as he tried to soothe it for himself. His stomach was bare, his shirt hitched up over the forceful curve. Fenris set down the half-empty pie tin and accompanying utensils and coconut whip cream and reached over, gently laying a hand on Hawke's stomach.

"Are you sure you can eat more?" he asked, seriously concerned about what was physically possible.

"I want to," Hawke said immediately.

"There's no real timeline on how big you have you get and how soon. You should enjoy it."

"I am," Hawke replied, words breathy with how much he was struggling to even breathe.

"You're not doing this just because I find it hot as fuck?" Fenris pressed.

"However hot you find it," Hawke said, "trust me that I'm enjoying it at least twice as much."

Fenris was still unconvinced or at least not convinced that Hawke truly understood his limitations. Catching his eye, Hawke went on.

"I love this feeling. It's like being dropped into my own body and really feeling it in a way I never knew was possible. I feel so solid and it hurts but it's such a good hurt. Everything feels hot and tingly. And then anytime I'm not full I just feel...disappointed that I'm not already softer. I'm not even at the heaviest I've ever been yet, Fen."

Fenris swallowed, trying not to get too turned on by Hawke's words and just focus on the practical side of things.

"Right. But if you overdo it and just throw up, that seems like something that would cut into the enjoyment," he pointed out flatly.

"I won't," Hawke assured. "I promise. And if it makes you feel better, let's safe word it."

Fenris gave Hawke an evaluating look. He didn't want this unless Hawke truly loved it. His body was going to change. It already was. It couldn't be just for him. But looking at Hawke's face he didn't see any hesitation. If anything he detected a note of frustration. Fenris sighed, but nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure. What's your safe word?"

"Something I'd never say during sex for fun...Cullen Rutherford. That movie was such a snore fest."

Fenris snorted.

"Alright."

Fenris stood and sprayed a liberal helping of the coconut cream onto the last of the pie, making sure to cover it as thoroughly as he'd seen Garrett do earlier, getting not just the top but all the sides and blanketing it in soft white cream. He paused.

"Do you want me to feed you or help with this?" he asked, reaching out to brush Garrett's tight stomach with a fingertip. Garrett straightened up at the touch and but his lip. He hummed, thinking.

"Well I feel like all that talking gave me time to make some room but I could use your help easing out some of the cramps," Garrett said. Fenris loved how strategic Hawke was being about this. Obliging, he handed Hawke the dessert and tried to consider the best position for him on the narrow bed.

"Hm, can you sit at the edge of the bed instead?" he asked. "I'll go between your legs if you swing them over the edge. How'd you ever fit in this bed?"

Garrett huffed as he moved and tried to balance the pie and whip cream and it wasn't graceful, though Garrett rarely was. Watching him struggle around his own globular belly was almost _cute._

"Haven't since I was sixteen," he said breathily. He settled, legs spread wise enough for Fenris to kneel between them. Carefully, still feeling full himself, Fenris went down to his knees, bracing himself on Garrett's thick thighs as he lowered himself down. Once settled be smoothed his palms up against the grain of his hair, stopping just at the hip after a tender squeeze and looked up. Garrett stared down at him, a peculiar look on his face. He waited for the safe word but when it didn't come raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Garrett hummed thoughtfully then shrugged.

"This is weird," he said. Fenris scoffed, absently rubbing small circles with his thumbs against Garrett's hip. He could still find his hipbone easily enough but they certainly weren't as sharp as they'd once been.

"But we're both enjoying it, I hope?"

"My hot boyfriend wants me to eat whatever I want, whenever I want and as much as I want and practically loses his shit just looking at me? Pinch me because I think I’m dreaming."

Fenris dropped his gaze, hiding his smile. He moved his hands upwards, careful around the tight bloat that jutted sharply outwards.

"You don't mind that you'll look different? Feel different?"

Garrett's hand reached down to tilt his head upwards gently.

"As long as I have you wanting to bone me into next week, yeah, I'm good."

Fenris balked, and drew his head back out of Hawke's hand.

"I thought you were going to say something romantic," he accused and gave a sharp pinch on the lower part of his belly where it was still soft despite how excruciatingly tight the rest of it was. He wanted to give it a good slap but he didn't want to make Garrett vomit or have his sister hear what was happening from the next room. Hawke cringed inwards and did his best to hold the tin dish aloft.

"What's not romantic about that?"

"Fine," Fenris griped. "Get that fucking pie down your throat, Hawke."

"Finally," Garrett said, as though he weren't already filled with enough food for a small army. Fenris turned his attention back to Hawke's stomach, which Hawke pressed eagerly outwards. Like much the rest of him, it was covered in a good dusting of hair, a clear line from his bellybutton downwards but radiating outwards as well. Carefully, Fenris pressed his palm over it, following the grain outwards before drawing back down and up. Garrett made a satisfied hum through his full mouth, so he began repeating the motion.

“You’re so sexy,” he said.

“Feel so heavy,” Garrett said quietly around a mouthful of pie.

“You’re going to _get_ so heavy,” Fenris growled low, coming forward and groping at Hawke’s chest and pressing his mouth hot against the bulge of belly in front of him. He heard Garrett swallow hard and cough lightly once it’d gone down. Encouraged, Fenris gave a soft bite before dropping his hands back down over the impressive curve. Beneath his own legs he felt himself go hard and tried to ignore it, focusing on soothing Garrett’s belly so that he could finish and not just on rutting against it.

Why the packed tightness of Garrett’s belly was so entrancing he couldn’t entirely say but as eager as he was to cum all over it, he wanted to make sure that Garrett was as comfortable as he could be with this bloated mess. With his hands moving over the stuffed mound he could already imagine it turning to soft fat that he could take in handful and squeeze and suck. As his gut and ass, thighs and chest got thicker and softer it was impossible not to think of having Hawke beneath him, jiggling and bouncing as he, as Hawke hoped, boned him hard enough that it made him cum into next week.

Lost in thought, Fenris was surprised when Garrett breathily announced that he was done. He immediately began maneuvering himself back on the bed so that he could lay back. It was such a narrow bed that there was little choice but sit astride Hawke, being careful of his rounded middle. Straddling over his hips, Fenris could see that even laying down the mass in his middle was still obvious. Gently he dragged his fingertips over one side.

“How do you feel?” Fenris asked.

“Like I’m going to explode,” Garrett said, following with a deep sigh as he struggled to comfortably get air in and out of his chest. “In more than one way.”

“Let’s get you undressed at least,” he said, shifted back far enough to help Garrett out of his jeans while being careful of not falling off the end of the bed himself. Garrett grunted as he jutted his hips up so that Fenris could yank the jeans off and settled back in heavily. Tossing the jeans aside he palmed his boyfriend’s crotch and could feel the wet patch where his dick had been leaking already. Garrett arched into the touch but Fenris still need to undress himself, still keenly aware of his own bowed out stomach. It was nothing like Hawke’s but once he stripped down he couldn’t resist but press himself flush up against Hawke to see how it felt as he gave him a hungry kiss.

He felt a strange flip in his own belly and drew back slowly, not wanting to think too much on it.

Fenris ground his hips against Hawke and Garrett immediately clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan. As far as sex noises went, it was pretty normal so Fenris wasn’t too worried about being overheard and repeated the motion.

“Oh fuck,” Garrett whispered, sounded slightly panicked. “Don’t stop.”

Fenris obliged, his own dick hard. Blow jobs, jerking one another off; they’d come plenty of times without penetration in their relationship but never just from the friction of their own bodies like this. But he was already so close that it felt like he’d come at any second. Beneath him, Garrett’s belly bounced. It made him feel fucking wild.

Garrett came first, gasping softly for air before releasing, both hands still covering his mouth as he shuddered through it. Fenris was better at control, but came shortly after with a low, strained breath as the tension blew white behind his eyes. He pressed in as tight as he dared as the heat coursed through him, then lingered as the tension subsided. Their cum was hot between them. He wished that they’d been at his own place or Garrett’s where he’d have been less guilty about getting the bedding dirty; he wanted to cum over that thick gut properly. Reaching down to press himself off of Garrett he could feel a slick sheen of sweat. He paused, relishing the feeling of Hawke’s belly full and hot as it was pressed up against him. How he kept it all down, he’d never know.

“Was I loud?” Garrett whispered, sounding fearful. “Do you think Bethy heard us?”

Fenris chuckled.

“If she did, I don’t think she’d be able to tell that we came just because we were turned on over how fucking stuffed you are.”

Garrett melted beneath him in a long sigh.

“I’m the worst brother.”

“Remember last Christmas when we walked in on her and that boy she brought home in the shed while you were trying to find somewhere to blow me?”

Garrett groaned.

“Yeah.”

“And then you apologized and said, ‘have fun!’ before running off leaving me standing there like an idiot? If she heard anything, I think she'd prefer evidence over something she already knows, that we have sex, over that happening again. Besides, you were surprisingly well-behaved.”

Garrett reached down and ran his hand along Fenris’ thigh, finishing with a pat on his hip.

“Anything for you,” he said blithely before motioning for Fenris to shift off of him. “Help me up, I need a shower. I don’t know if you noticed but I got that damned coconut cream all over myself.”

“Hm, kissing you did taste especially cavity inducing,” Fenris agreed. He lingered a moment longer then clambered off Hawke and the bed. Garrett laid there unmoving, and examining him in the dim light of the room, he could see that there was some coconut cream stuck in his hair somehow.

“Are you…” Fenris trailed, waving a hand towards the hall. Garrett closed his eyes.

“I feel so fat,” he announced. “And sleepy. Are you going to take a shower?”

“I’d like to,” Fenris admitted.

“You go first. I need to. Digest for a while.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Fenris warned.

“Even if I do, I don’t think I can make this any worse.”

Fenris scoffed, and bent over to lick at a stray bit of cream at Garrett’s temple. Garrett scrunched up his face.

“There too?”

“I’ll be back,” Fenris promised, grabbing his bag to go use the washroom. It sounded like Carver was about done doing whatever it was he felt compelled to take over the washroom for over the last forty minutes. “Don’t fall asleep. Go use the shower in the basement if I’m not quick enough.”

Garrett waved him off.

"I'll set up the roll out for you," he promised. Fenris gave a doubtful look and said nothing. Garrett was definitely going to fall asleep and then complain about crusty pubes in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is competitive, lacks subtlety, and has a solid base for his office paunch.

Hawke was idly watching TV and working his way through another bag of Hallowe'en candy from the bulk buy store. Fenris had never understood the appeal; buying regular sized candies and chocolate in the same amount would be cheaper but Hawke insisted that part of the fun was picking out your favourites and unwrapping them. Looking at the pile of wrappers on the table, it seemed that the fun showed no signs of letting up.

After two weeks of letting loose whatever self-restraints he'd had about food, Garrett had made good on his "commitment" to put on more weight by Hallowe'en, which was still three days and Maker-only-knew how many more bags of candy away. Fenris had thought that maybe he'd lose steam but since Thanksgiving it seemed that Hawke had only forced his capacity even more with every meal. Unfortunately, Fenris hadn’t been around as much as he’d have liked to truly witness it, though the text messages and snaps helped.

Right now, Fenris knew he was watching Garrett with the look of a starved dog but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the very evident softness that had gathered around Hawke's middle.

"I told you, didn't I?" Garrett said, grabbing a handful of pudge and letting his fingers sink in. He wasn't too full but sitting still clearly rounded out his belly in front of him, the buttons on his shirt not gaping but definitely holding back more than they had before. Fenris' breath paused a moment but he kept his expression clear as Hawke went on. "Confession; my metabolism actually tanked well before thirty. I've practically been on a diet since I was in my early twenties."

Fenris pushed off the doorframe he'd been leaning on.

"I'm glad you're more comfortable," he said mildly. He was careful to sound calm but betrayed himself as he made a quick line for the couch and kneeled down between Hawke's legs. Garrett peered down at him with a questioning look.

"You look comfortable," Fenris went on. He propped his arms up on Hawke's thighs and casually traces a line overtop his stomach. Hawke drew in a tight breath, belly momentarily shrinking before he relaxed again. It wasn't anywhere near resting on his lap yet, but in the last week especially he's developed a permanently rounded look to his middle like his stomach had suddenly popped outwards. His shirts all caught just enough on the curved crest of his belly to be unmistakable and his sides had started to look wider as love handles began to appear. His official office paunch, as he'd jokingly described it.

Fenris undid the buttons, and pushed the sides of the shirt back, framing his soft gut. Underneath, Hawke's slacks dug in tightly, the soft flesh pressing over the edge of his waistband. Fenris took the flesh between his fingers and gave a light pinch. It was soft and malleable, not like when Hawke was stuffed tight as a drum and he liked it better this way. He could hear Hawke struggling to keep his breath steady, trying to anticipate what was next. He was probably trying to figure out if this was foreplay or just an inspection for the sake of curiosity.

Unfortunately, Fenris _was_ actually exhausted; he'd been at work for nearly fifteen hours between the university and the archives. Sighing, he pulled Hawke's shirt closed again and gave a fond pat on his stomach. Hawke relaxed and hauled him up onto the couch.

"You look tired," he said softly.

"I am."

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Not what I asked," Garrett said hugging him tightly. He was warm and soft and despite the intensity of his interest in exploring that, Fenris immediately felt as though he were nodding off.

"A while ago. I just want to sleep."

Hawke hummed, unconvinced, but perhaps he could feel the consciousness slipping away from Fenris. He gave Fenris a couple soft pats then started getting him back up.

"Come on, no sleeping on the couch. You know it's bad for your back."

Fenris sighed. Last year he'd pinched a nerve and Hawke hadn't stopped fussing since. But it was nice, having someone remember that and do their best to make sure it didn't happen again. So, he let the large man corral him into the bedroom and start getting him out of his clothes. Hawke set his hands on Fenris' narrow hips and held him in place.

"Maker, here I am getting fat as a feast day hog and you're wasting away," he said with a sincere note of concern. "Fenris, really, when did you last eat a proper meal?"

Fenris looked away and tried to step back towards the bed, but the man’s big hands had him firmly in place. He put his own hands over Hawke's and sighed.

"I don't know. I had a sandwich around lunch."

"A sandwich? Anything else? Fenris, I'm not trying to be a nag but...you actually do look a touch peaky. You sure you’re okay?"

He knew Hawke wasn't faking his concern but a hot curl of anger still went up through Fenris' chest. It was more reflexive than anything, a reaction that came from a strong aversion in being told what to do. A reaction that was even stronger when it came to someone telling him what to do with his body.

Except, that wasn't what Hawke was trying to do. He looked back up at Hawke, into his wide, earnest blue eyes that were filled with more genuine concern than Fenris knew what to do with. He really was so tired. He pulled a hand through his hair and turned away.

"I’ll pay better attention."

“Please do.”

Fenris couldn’t shake off the tension, but pushed away as gently as he could muster. Under stress, eating was the first thing he tended to forget but he'd never really been with someone since...well, since every part of his life had been carefully regimented and controlled. After Danarius it was like he hadn't known how to take care of himself anymore. Of course, that was because it's exactly what Danarius had conditioned him for but--

"Fenris, hey," Hawke said, not letting Fenris off the hook just yet. "What can I do?"

Fenris leaned his head against Hawke's shoulder and took some deep breaths.

"I'll have some of the canned soup I left in the cupboard by the stove," he decided. Hawke's hand rested up on the back of his neck, fingers curled and easy. Fenris tried to let himself relax but his shoulders felt tight and yes, with enough attention drawn to it he'd even admit that he was hungry. Hawke tangled his fingers up into his hair and he wanted to follow that touch so badly, get Hawke into bed so he could feel and explore the new borders of his body. But Hawke pulled away, heading off to make food.

"Don't fall asleep, I'll be five minutes. Pick something to watch on the laptop and don't judge me for the porn I have open; it was research."

Fenris scoffed but acquiesced. He finished undressing and got into Hawke's ridiculously large bed; generally when they slept over with one another it was at Garrett's because the bed was bigger. He pulled over Hawke's laptop and punched in the password and sure enough, there was a nature documentary open and several tabs on what looked like a couple FA sites.

"So which one is the porn?" he called out. Two large predatory cats were locked in combat and held in stasis by the pause button.

"Happy to report that animal planet does nothing sexual for me," Garrett chimed back blithely.

Fenris opened one of the other tabs. He'd looked through some of these sites too, mostly to see if he just felt that way about weight gain in general or if it was a more specific thing with Hawke. He'd landed somewhere in the middle. He didn't love pageantry when it wasn't Hawke, so some stranger rubbing their gut and saying they were about to burst because they were a fat little piggy that didn't know how to stop didn't get him going so much as someone simply, and often silently, fondling their own bloated flesh. He sniffed; the only way he'd ever get Hawke to be quiet is to shove food in his mouth, and even then it wouldn't be likely to be as effective as one would think.

But...he loved Hawke. And a part of loving him was his flair for the dramatic. Hawke did it with such an unflappable and unconscious sincerity that it was hard not to fall in with it.

Hawke came back with a bowl of soup and a slice of toast perched over it and handed it to Fenris. Once he started eating he immediately started to feel better; still tired but at least like he was stuck in a fog. Beside him Hawke was eating too, now working through a large bag of chips.

Fenris jerked his head at the screen.

"Anything you were interested in?"

Garrett made a noncommittal hum.

"I don’t know, it's nice to see how different people enjoy it but a lot of it is like cam work, I guess, and I feel bad if I don't send money to sponsor a meal. And the stuffing videos are kind of boring. Why watch when I can do?"

Fenris swallowed and laughed.

"So you're too self-absorbed to think of anything but your own insatiable appetite."

"It’s rude to expect perfection of me," Hawke said in mock defense, his hand dropping down to the soft mound of his own belly. Garrett had always run hot but falling asleep next to him after he'd gorged himself silly was like sleeping next to a furnace. For someone who naturally ran cold, Fenris couldn't help but curl in around that heat like a clingy reptile.

Garrett hummed thoughtfully.

"It helped to see different body types, get an idea of what weights look like on different people. Watching people try to get into their old clothes was pretty good, and the button-popping."

Fenris swallowed hard.

"Have you...outgrown any of your clothes?"

Hawke shook his head but then paused.

"If I eat enough...I do need to unbutton. Nothing's unwearable yet though."

Fenris paused mid-spoonful, digesting the information instead. He had of course, been noticing how the fit of Hawke’s clothes were changing but he would also agree that nothing was unwearable just yet. Uncomfortable sometimes, certainly; he’d caught him trying to readjust his jeans so that they sat more comfortably and how the fabric of his button-ups was starting to bunch in places that they hadn’t before. Hawke munched on some chips and swallowed before speaking again.

"Won't be long though," he said, palming to curve of his stomach.

Fenris groaned in frustration, his exhaustion still very much there but he could feel heat stirred deep in his own belly.

"You're...a fucking tease," he grumbled and tried to shift his focus.

Hawke winked but stopped.

"Eat your sad soup dinner." he said.

"What, before you eat it before me?"

Garrett laughed.

"Soup seems inefficient for gaining weight. I guess unless you get the creamy kind. Maybe eat a bunch of bread. But that soup..." Garrett gave a distasteful look. And true it was canned soup Fenris had bought for him when he'd had a cold earlier that year. He took another spoonful, eager to finish so that he could sleep. Hawke flicked through the tabs, closing some of them down. He paused on one though.

"I've been thinking of doing shakes," he said. "No gainer powders or anything but…I love chocolate and peanut butter and ice cream and all that junk anyways and I’m finding constantly eating a little distracting.”

Fenris swallowed his food carefully before responding.

"In place of meals or in addition to?"

"In addition; I was thinking one a day at the end. Fill up whatever space I'm left with."

"I don't think stomachs work like that."

"Nah, but think of how fat it'll make me."

This time Fenris choked a little and he felt his dick going hard, which, was completely unfair when he was too tired to do anything serious about it.

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"A little," Garrett said, grinning. "This is the first time it's been this easy."

"I'm—“

"Getting a hard on thinking about how fast I'm porking up. It’s cute. Hey, I found a stretch mark on my stomach, Fen. And it's not just this," he said, gripping his own belly. "It's getting harder and harder to squeeze my ass into my jeans and I can practically hear the seams creak every time I sit down."

By now the nervous excitement in his own stomach was making it impossible to eat more, but he's gotten through enough that he was willing to give up on the last of it. With some food in him, maybe he had just enough energy to ride Garrett's dick after all and feel how his own rubbed up against the growing bulge of his belly.

"How much have you gained, Garrett?" he asked, setting aside the bowl and partially eaten toast.

"What do you think?"

Fenris gave an evaluating look.

"Since we started dating? Thirty pounds."

Garrett looked down, moving the pliant flesh around.

"You think that much?"

"Have you checked?"

Garrett shook his head.

"Weirdly I haven't thought too much about measurements. I was about 170 when we started dating."

"You were mostly muscle then," Fenris said and he knew his voice sounded fucking parched. Garrett gave a knowing look but then his eyes drifted to the side table.

"Maybe if you finish your dinner I can go pull out the scale."

Fenris let out a frustrated groan.

"You're the one we should be feeding."

Garrett's expression shifted abruptly.

"Not when I'm worried about you getting sick. I'm serious Fen, you're beautiful no matter what, but you look like a stiff wind could knock you over right now."

The angry knot in his chest pulled tight again, in conflict with the frustrating full-on boner he had now. He took in a shaky breath, trying to loosen the lines being pulled tight in his body. He pressed a hand against his stomach and he knew Hawke was right. He'd been feeling cold and tired and it had nothing to do with the weather. His skin felt shrink-wrapped against him.

"I'll finish, and then we're weighing you."

"Sounds like a plan. Sorry you have to eat the sad soup and toast with a boner."

Fenris scoffed and felt some of the tension release. Hawke's dumb, flippant comments always had a way of snapping the intensity of his emotions before they could take over. He ate his damn soup, already lukewarm and made a show of sopping up the remnants with the bread.

"Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Garrett said, beaming. "Now, time to see how much I've fattened up."

Fenris said nothing, but ducked his head down to hide his smile; Garrett seemed to truly enjoy this. As he followed behind the larger man he just wanted to reach out and squeeze the flesh above his waistband. Maybe thirty pounds had been underestimating. There wasn't a moment he saw Hawke without a snack and there wasn't a single meal where he didn't gorge himself to the point of what seemed inhuman. When they'd left game night earlier that week even Varric had suggested it might be easier to roll him out.

And that was a part of it too; Hawke seemed to have no shame in eating as much as he did in front of everyone. His shamelessness made putting on the weight easier and he'd been on a steady clip since they'd stumbled on their mutual interest in the kink. It hadn't even been a month; how much had he managed to pack on in that time?

As Hawke bent over to pull the scale out from under the sink it, his ass spread wide, undeniably plumper than before. Fenris bit at his lip.

Garrett straightened up and looked at Fenris, pausing before stepping on.

"Sure you don't want to put on bets? Guess the weight of the hog like at the feast day fair?"

"I've already won the hog," Fenris pointed out. He grabbed at Hawke's rounded ass and giving a tight squeeze. The man let out an unbecoming squeak and quickly turned to step on. There was a moment of anticipation as the scale calculated his weight and flashed the number back up in read digits.

Garrett let out a low whistle.

"So, that's more than I thought."

"What is it?" Fenris asked, trying to peer around Garrett's hairy calves.

"I mean I guess I'm a bit full at the moment and some of it must be water..."

"Hawke," Fenris said warningly. When Garrett smirked back at him he realized he was being led on again. This time he gave Garrett's belly a sharp smack that surprised them both, the slight wobble of fat drawing both of their attention.

"Sorry," Fenris said quickly but Garrett was already shaking his head and blushing.

"Promise to do that again later."

Fenris nodded tightly. He cleared his throat.

"How much do you weigh, Garrett?"

Garrett let out a slow breath.

"206."

Fenris sucked in a breath.

"You're already over 200 pounds?"

"Looks like."

He looked over Garrett, assessing the new fat covering his body and it was noticeable but that they'd already missed the 200 mark without even realizing it was impressive. Maybe because he was so tall, it would take more for him to look like he's put on anything serious. Right now, he barely even looked chubby. Just like someone who worked in an office, sitting on his ass all day, snacking more than he should, eating a few too many slices of staff birthday cakes, and taking his meetings over lunch.

"I've put on more than 10 pounds in a month."

"Month's not over yet," Fenris said quickly. Garrett's eyebrows shot up.

"What, you think that number's going to get much bigger?"

"Couldn't it?"

"Is that a challenge?" Garrett asked and it was more than just playful; his competitive streak was nothing to dismiss. Fenris pulled Hawke down off the scale, squashing the man’s belly up in-between them as he wrapped his arms around him. He wanted to know what it felt like to sink into that feeling more and couldn’t help but feel impatient despite what was in truth, am incredible effort already.

"You said you were 170 before we started dating? Make it 210 by Hallowe'en and that's an even 40."

"Four pounds in three days?

Fenris used a hand to soft squeeze at the plush flesh forced up over the band of his already too tight shorts.

"I'm sure you can manage it."

He squeezed a little tighter and then let go, pushing to get Hawke out of the washroom.

"I need to get my contacts out and brush my teeth," he said. As much as he wanted to properly sex his boyfriend right then and there, he was also starting to feel sleep creep up on him again.

Garrett gave him a quick peck on the top of his head.

"I'll go get a snack," he said, sounding determined and _cuter_ than he should for it.

Once Hawke left Fenris gave a look down at the scale. Out if curiosity he stepped up on it and waiting with arms crossed for the number to be relayed back up to him. He bit his lip when he read it, then looked into the large mirror, uncurling his hands to trace the line of a rib. He'd lost four pounds.

Sighing, he stepped off and tried not to think too much about the sharpness of his own hips and more pronounced line of his ribs.  
  


* * *

  
Maybe it was to make a point or to score extra ones, but Hawke didn't do just four pounds but constantly gorged himself over the following days with chocolate, candy, pumpkin spice everything and hearty fall meals at every meal and brought himself up to 212; granted, some of that had to be a bloat, but that particular bloat was still from the night before meaning that some of it must have stuck.

Fenris felt a bit dazed just thinking about it; that put Garrett at over forty pounds heavier than when they first started dating.

"Today, this day where the Veil between life and death is thinnest, I prove your challenge to be…piddly," Garrett said, smoothing a hand slowly over the growing curve of his midsection. Though it was impressive that Garrett had managed to put on so much extra weight, it was equally as impressive that Fenris still wouldn’t quite put him in the category of _chubby_ yet. More like…pudgy. What the exact distinction was he wasn’t sure but maybe when the weight started showing up on his face he could out rightly say that Hawke was chubby but they weren’t there yet. Maybe in another ten pounds.

“Wasn’t so piddly the other night when you couldn’t get up to get yourself home.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to leave,” Garrett said, trying to flirt but the way he tried not to grimace told Fenris that it had more to do with being stuffed to the point of being uncomfortably pinned down by his own gorged belly.

Garrett sighed, his stomach rounding out slightly as he did.

“As fun as this has been, I think I need a break for a few days after this,” Garrett admitted. “You wouldn’t think it, but getting fat is exhausting.”

Fenris laughed and passed a hand across Garrett’s back as they walked. Immediately, Garrett leaned into the touch; Fenris wasn’t much for PDA. Obligingly, Fenris moved closer and slipped his hand into the back pocket of Garrett’s jeans; with some difficultly. They were getting tight. Once in he gave Garrett’s plumped up ass a squeeze and felt the larger man practically melt against him.

“You can stop today,” Fenris pointed out. “You’ve already beaten my bet.”

“It’s _hallowe’en,_ Fen. There are like at least twenty things I want to eat before the end of the day.”

Fenris pulled his hand out of the pocket and snuck it up under Garrett’s jacket so that he could give his sides a good pinch.

“You’re just greedy,” he said. This time Hawke pulled away, flapping his hands at Fenris.

“Oh Maker, don’t,” he said. “You’re going to get me all hot and bothered.”

Fenris smirked, but kept his hands off.

“Hey, we didn’t discuss what I win if I beat your bet,” Garrett said. Fenris rolled back his shoulders and then hunched back forward again against the wind.

“What do you want?”

It might have been the cold morning air, but Fenris knew Garrett well enough to know that he was blushing; meaning, he’d definitely already thought about it. Garrett coughed, then swallowed, then shook out shoulders a little bit in an effort to coax his words out. It was cute but Fenris frowned impatiently.

“Spit it out,” he said.

“Hah, well, I’d rather shove it in,” Garrett said, glib but immediately covering his mouth and glancing around. He laughed nervously then cut in front of Fenris for a moment before turning and falling back in step beside him, dancing. He took a deep breath.

“Okay. Can you…borrow a camera from work?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem; what do you have in mind?”

“Uhm,” Garrett trailed, glancing around again. “Okay, I’d rather text it to you later. The details.”

“Sounds extensive.”

“I just don’t want to talk about it in public because I’m…already getting hot and bothered.”

“At least it’s your own fault and not mine,” Fenris said, tone flat. But his interest was piqued.

“It’s still a little your fault. It’s like, I am enjoying the shit out of this but it’s also kind of Pavlovian in relation to our sex life.”

“…how do you feel about that?”

“It’s part of why I want to slow down a little after Hallowe’en. Mostly it’s fine, but like uh…when I’m really full. It feels really damn good. There’s just something about feeling so bloated and huge even if not really all that big yet…yeah. Not helpful when I’m say, at my job, or helping my mother with things around the house.”

Fenris laughed.

“Okay. As long as you don’t feel like you have to be focusing on it all the time.”

“I don’t. And I really don’t even mean to overeat at every meal, it just…happens.”

Fenris hummed, wanting to continue the conversation but they were just about to part ways.

“Do you have a minute? I was thinking of grabbing a coffee,” Hawke said, pointing at a shop across the street.

Coffee, Fenris hadn’t realized would also involve buying two muffins that he assumed were both for Hawke but when the server asked if they wanted them in separate bags realized that this was also a part of Hawke’s campaign to make sure he was eating more than a single sandwich every day.

“Thank-you,” Fenris said stiffly as he shoved the pastry into his bag. He hated when Hawke bought him things and was still working on hating it less. He knew that it was just a sign of affection and care and his thoughts escalating into registering it as a sign of manipulation and control was something else, and not Garrett’s fault. Knowing that didn’t make it easy to drop his defences though, he’d probably still be picking that apart by time lunch came around.

“You are most welcome,” Garrett said easily. “Okay, I better actually run now.”

Garrett kissed him quickly and started to make his way over to the Viscount’s office, leaving Fenris to backtrack to his own respective office. He rolled his shoulder a bit, trying to get that knot of tension out. Their relationship wasn’t perfect; they’d had to have a serious conversation about what Garrett was allowed to give and what was too much. They always split the bill. They always assumed that one another would handle meals on their own unless otherwise discussed. There was no dropping in unexpected. It was a lot of things that Fenris had assumed that Garrett would hate or get upset over but…by and large he abided by the rules without question.

A muffin was just a muffin.

He shouldn’t have to remind himself of that, but he repeated it in his head at least another ten times before he got through the doors of the Queer resource centre. Slash gallery. Slash group therapy space, slash club meetings and free classes and work spaces.

“Oh, hello, Fenris,” Sebastian said from behind a comically large stack of files. “Just so you know, I made some seasonally appropriate cupcakes; left one on your desk to make sure you got one before they were gone.”

“…thank-you,” Fenris said, frowning and then trying to rearrange his expression into something more neutral.

A muffin was just a muffin. A cupcake was just a cupcake. And Sebastian was about as threatening as a kitten in a suit of armour.

Fenris made his way to the desk they’d assigned him downstairs; his choice of work perpetually regulated him to basements, but it was somewhat brightened by the lurid orange frosting of the promised cupcake and its accompanying sugar ghost bedecking the top of it. He didn’t really know how to tell Sebastian that he wasn’t overly wild about sweets when he clearly put so much time into them. It seemed like every other day he had some new recipe that he was trying and wanted reviews on or just had too much to eat on his own. Which wouldn’t be so troubling if he wasn’t also a self-admitted stress baker.

Although, the more time Fenris spent at the gallery slash resource centre slash community gathering space the more he saw why Sebastian, as the director, had more than enough things to stress about. He’d texted Isabela about it and she’d said that he’d had some wilder years, but after his sister had died, he’d changed everything about his life. In particular, ‘the fun parts’, she said.

Fenris took a seat in the old, worn computer chair and stared for a moment at the equally as taxed computer. Over the years, the gallery had accumulated a certain amount of ephemera, but more so they’d had so much donated to them over the years and they’d never had the funding to consistently have someone to manage the collection. But that was usually the least of their worries, which only compounded the situation. The amount of degraded publications that Fenris had found so far was a shame but at least he could try to salvage some of it.

He got to work and ignored the buzzing of his phone and the screen going alight as Garrett undoubtedly texted what exactly he was supposed to be borrowing a camera for. Not wanting to get distracted, he ignored them, working until he felt he’d gotten through enough to take a quick break.

**Hawke:** _ngl i was really put out that we missed 200_

**Hawke:** _ so i was thinking, for posterity_

**Hawke:** _you know_

**Hawke:** _maybe_

**Hawke:** _some documentation? might be nice?_

**Hawke:** _and…_

**Hawke:** _ maybe…_

**Hawke:** _do me the honour of helping film a belly play video with lighting that doesn’t look like I live in the deepest, mouldiest caves of the storm coast with nothing more than glowing fungi to illuminate my chunky ass_

The messages weren’t as embarrassing as he was sure Garrett felt that they were, at least they wouldn’t have been if it weren’t for the following message:

**Isabela:** _ Hawke, this is the group chat._

And if it were anyone other than Isabela, Fenris might have felt embarrassed too, but instead she’d sent a photo. In it, she was pinching at her own soft stomach between her long, perfectly manicured and blue painted nails.

**Isabela:** _ Want some of mine?_

**Isabela:** _What about you Fen? What are you boys up to? Are you cubs now? Or would you be bears?_

**Fenris:** _Mind your own business, Isabela._

**Isabela:** _ I was!_

**Isabela:** _But now I’m curious. Dish!_

**Hawke:** _More like how many dishes._

**Isabela:** _ I bet your ass isn’t even nearly as fat as mine during festival. Or even right now. Think you can be thicc?_

**Hawke:** _ Is that a challenge?_

Fenris snorted and set down his phone, turning his attention back to his work and leaving the two to bicker amongst themselves. So much for discretion.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans...tend to get derailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Please note that the rating for this fic has moved from "M" to "Explicit"; this chapter is straight up porn (but with emotions, imagine).

“So, first,” Hawke started. “I lied.”

Fenris narrowed his gaze, waiting for Hawke to continue. It wasn’t his favourite way to start a conversation and Hawke gave an apologetic look and then held up a pair of pants.

“I did outgrow a pair of jeans,” he confessed.

Fenris felt his stomach do a flip as his eyes immediately dropped down to Hawke’s rounded out middle.

“You forgot?”

Hawke grabbed at his belly with one hand, likely filled with the nearly twenty-odd things he’d mentioned wanting to eat before going to work that morning. Fenris took in a slow breath, liking how that looked far too much to keep focused on the conversation.  
  
“It was before I started doing this intentionally.”

Fenris looked at the jeans and recognized them as the ones that Hawke usually reserved for wearing when they went out dancing because they were “scandalous”.

“Remember the last time Izzy was coming through town and we went out? I’d put them on and thought that maybe they’d just shrunk in the wash and didn’t think anything of it because they’re supposed to be tight anyways. I didn’t consider that maybe I was actually too fat for them.”

Not able to resist, Fenris went over and placed his hands over the sides of Hawke’s widening waist. Hawke bumped his stomach forward, coming into contact against Fenris’ lean body.  
  
“I uh…just remembered because of the group chat,” he said. “Which, I’m so sorry, that was _not_ on purpose. I’m an idiot. Sorry."

Fenris shrugged.

“It’s just Izzy. And she’s right, your ass isn’t nearly as thick as hers,” he said, slipping his hands around to get two handfuls and squeeze. Hawke squeaked but then followed with a groan as Fenris brought his hands back up and gave a light smack to the bulky side of Garrett’s belly. “It’s mostly going right here.”

Still foggy from the nap he took while waiting for Hawke and feeling unhurried, Fenris pressed his palms in against Garrett’s belly, making large circles and pinching and the pudge that flowed out the top of his jeans. He tried to not let the thought that it was like having access to a giant stress ball cross his mind, but he did love this softness and how at ease Hawke looked with the new weight.

“I don’t think the rest of your wardrobe is far behind,” Fenris noted, feeling the way Hawke’s belly poked out over his jeans. For emphasis, he tried to work his fingers in beneath the waist band. Technically he could get in there, but it wasn’t an easy fit. “You’re starting to spill out of your clothes.”

Garrett made a keening noise, and leaned forward to kiss Fenris. Taking the opportunity, Fenris brought his hand up to Garrett’s chest and palmed his pecs, which had started looking particularly puffy. It’d caught him off guard almost, noticing the way that it wasn’t just Garrett’s softening belly filling out his shirts anymore. Really, if they were being honest, they probably should have changed out some of his clothes by now. His jeans and work slacks weren’t looking even remotely comfortable anymore, and especially not by time he came home each day after relentless snacking.

Garrett hissed and swatted his hands away.

“If you keep fondling my tits like that we’re not going to get anything done tonight,” he said. Fenris didn’t let up, backing Hawke back up against the wall and gave a slap to Hawke’s side. Judging by the boner he could feel pressing up against him, they were well on the way of not going quite according to schedule anyways.

“What’s the rush?”

“Mm, I mean, I guess…” Hawke trailed, looking down at Fenris, his pupils already blown wide.

Fenris took hold of his collar and yanked him back down, thrilled that there was a little more distance to cross since it had to be _over_ Hawke’s thickening belly. It was always pushed up by whatever he wore now, permanently up and over his waistbands, looking thick and delicious. Whenever he sat, the love handles at his sides became more pronounced and his ass was getting hefty enough to spill over the edges of chairs in a way that just looked _soft_ They hadn’t had a lot of time to spend with one another with the extra work he’d taken on but any moment he had time to really look at Hawke it was enthralling. He still had some trouble trying to put aside the feeling of shame that came with looking and finding this so stupidly sexy, especially now that it was starting to mix with some guilt for encouraging Hawke to gain so fucking quickly, and completely _ruin_ any athleticism he had to his physique.

In the end though, he couldn’t ignore that the sex had been incredible or that Hawke still looked hotter than should be legal but more than either of those things, he seemed so genuinely happy. Even, when he was so glutted that he could hardly move, stroking the growing bulge slowly until Fenris took mercy and helped to work out the cramps and help him get a few more in before he fell asleep, sated and heavy.

Fenris moved them over to the bed, a hand affectionately on Hawke’s stomach, guiding him gently back. When Hawke sat, his stomach bulged over even further and Fenris couldn’t resist reaching down and grabbing, his thumb in his belly button to gauge how deep it was getting. His stomach was getting big, as intended, but there was something delectable about how much more obvious the fat was, perched right at the front of his belly. He wasn’t always tight like a drum any more, and though he loved the contented look that followed that particular state, it was the fucking _wobble_ that really caught his attention. It was on Hawke’s ass and thighs too, but on his belly it was a sign of complete decadence.

He lifted Garrett’s belly up appraising, feeling its weight.

“You want that to feel even heavier, don’t you?” Hawke asked. Fenris froze, still not used to his boyfriend having an advantage over him when it came to teasing. He’d asked Hawke if teasing was okay but it seemed that he had less to leverage in this case. He felt himself blush and unfortunately, Hawke picked up on it right away.

“You want me to get so fat that it’ll take a team effort just to get my pants off so that you can hop up and ride me,” Garrett went on. Fenris felt almost dizzy for a moment, his cool completely melting as his whole body seemed to catch fire with arousal. He let Hawke’s belly drop between them and watched, completely mesmerized by the way it bounced. He took in a deep breath, trying to recollect himself enough to play this game. Looking up he faltered again though, realizing that Hawke had been staring at him intently the whole time and not paying any mind at all to the way his belly wobbled in-between them.

“Or maybe I should ride you? Since you seem to want a show so bad.”

Fenris felt like he’d swallowed every word he could think of. They hadn’t ever done that before, maybe naturally inclined just by their difference in sizes for Fenris to be on top. Hawke liked watching him and Fenris liked being in control, even in their most intimate moments. He cleared his throat.

“Do you think you even have the stamina for that anymore?” he asked coolly.

“I’m not completely out of shape,” Hawke said. And before Fenris could protest he flexed an arm in a way that was almost too ridiculous but even under the ever thickening layer of fat it was clear that Hawke hadn’t been skipping strength training. Factoring that into how quickly he was gaining, Fenris’ felt his brain blank out trying to calculate just how much eating that was taking. It was no wonder that Hawke was thinking of doing shakes.

“You look so fucking good,” Fenris finally blurted out. It caught him off-guard almost given that he was entirely lacking most of his brain function. He grabbed the thread of thought to get him to his next one. “I want you on me, if you think you can ride me long enough to actually get yourself off.”

He finished with a growl and yanked his own shirt off. This was different. Sex with Garrett was always good, but the feeling of conflict he had over relinquishing some control heightened the way his body reacted to everything. He didn’t like to feel passive or doted on as Garrett was so often eager to do. In fact, more often than not he’d put it at full stop and redirect all the attention to Garrett. But looking at Garrett, so confident in the command of his own body he felt like maybe…letting loose of some of that control wouldn’t be so bad. Not with Garrett there to catch him.

Or crush him.

Which was not really a thought that should be such a turn on.

They were a mess of limbs for the next few minutes as they discarded their clothing, taking even longer as Fenris had to take moments to really appreciate the changes in Hawke’s body. He sucked at Hawke’s throat and imagined one day maybe sucking on a softer, second chin. He tweaked a nipple between his fingers and noted the ring of puffed out flesh around them and wondered how much longer until they looked less flabby and more like budding little tits. He had to stop and give a reverent touch to the faint stretchmarks starting to appear around Hawke’s belly; a large one just underneath where his belly was starting to _have_ a proper underneath and smaller ones radiating around his belly button, partially obscured by the hair there. His hair seemed to be growing in thicker too. Fenris had always been fascinated by just how hairy Hawke was. His own body hair was sparse and hardly worth note except for the fact that it didn’t match the shocked, premature white on his head. He bit back a grin, remembering the first time that he and Hawke had sex and that being one of the first things Hawke was apparently dying to know.

He undid the button on Hawke’s jeans and paused in the mild shock of watching everything surge forwards and down a bit. After giving it a soft kiss he helped Hawke shimmy them off, trying not to get too distracted by how much it made the fleshy mass of his middle shake and wobble. The elastic of his underwear still squished some of the flesh upwards; they really needed to take him shopping for some new clothes. Even if a part of what was so tantalizing about this whole venture was seeing his clothes get tighter, Fenris could clearly see the angry red of where Hawke’s jeans had been biting into his softer skin.

“Have you been using lotion?” Fenris asked.

“Should I?” Hawke asked.

“It might help with the chafing,” Fenris said, noting the dryness as well. He traced a finger on the skin just above the elastic gently.

“Maybe I should get you to do that for me,” Hawke said.

Fenris felt his thoughts burst again. He yanked off Hawke’s underwear, watching the way his dick sprung out. His belly wasn’t big enough for the two to make contact, but glancing down at how thick his thighs were getting Fenris imagined that Hawke must already be at odds with how his fattening body was affecting when and how he got horny. He hauled himself up over Hawke.

“I need you on me _now,”_ he hissed.

Hawke was happy to oblige, flipping them over and getting Fenris leaning back against the headboard. He placed a hand over Fenris’ lean torso and dragged his palm downwards, admiringly.

“You’re so small compared to me,” he muttered. “Sure I’m not too big for you?”

Fenris bucked his hips upwards involuntarily and exhaled sharply.

_"Hawke,”_ he said warningly but it came out feverish. For all that he had to threaten with, already half-crazed out of his mind by how turned on he was. His dick was throbbing painfully; really, Hawke wasn’t going to need much stamina to get the job done if he wasn’t able to rein himself in a little. And he needed to, just a little, because yeah, he did want a fucking show. He wanted to see Hawke bounce and jiggle and more than that he wanted to see him when he came, blissed out and debauched and delectably _plump._

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Garrett said, smirking. Fenris clenched his jaw, not wanting to draw out any further conversation. He felt like he was burning from the inside out and more alarmingly, he felt completely fucking useless. Garrett wasn’t even on him yet and he could feel his body trembling in anticipation.

Fenris so rarely let himself feel like this; at mercy. He wiped his palm up over his brow and felt sweat as he yanked his hair back. Garrett was busy putting a condom over him and the delicacy of the touch itself was almost enough to make him lose it. In an effort to regain some control he bit down on the inside of his cheek. He shivered as some cold lube dropped onto his skin and bit harder as Hawke prepared each of them generously. It did at least give him enough time to pull back enough that he wouldn’t blow his load the second Hawke really got started.

Fenris opened his eyes as Hawke shuffled up over him and nearly had a heart attack when he stopped.

“Your back,” Garrett said, brow pinching in worry. Fenris was about to lose his shit, but before he could Garrett was simply reaching beside them and asking Fenris to lift his back a little so that they could put his orthopedic pillow beneath the curve of his spine. Glancing up sheepishly, Fenris nodded. Now that it was there he was definitely more comfortable.

“Don’t hold back,” Fenris warned. “You’re not going to break me.”

“I know,” Garrett said. Fenris watched as he reached around himself and tried to relax enough to prepare himself. His face was flushed and he was frowning in concentration. It didn’t take long for him to work through it, the tension easing out across his softened limbs. The way he was posed made his belly jut outwards enticingly, suspended and soft. It wasn’t heavy enough for it to be dropping down and creasing but it wasn’t looking far off. Fenris watched as it wobbled precariously and ran his hands appraisingly up over Garrett’s thighs, the soft hairs tickling beneath his palm.

“I think…I’m good,” Garrett said. He wiped off his lube covered fingers on the towel they kept with the rest of their kit. “You ready?”

Fenris took in a deep breath and nodded, feeling for the moment at least, entirely refocused.

Hawke lowered himself slowly, shoulders tensed again as he sunk his ass down. Fenris dug his nails in on his thighs as they spread out wide, the sensation making him jerk upwards sharply. Garrett took it in stride; he usually bottomed anyways, contrary to popular assumption. Again, that control thing. That control thing that Fenris had completely and uncharacteristically handed over for once and as Garrett pulled back up and sunk back down with more confidence he felt like he was going completely feral. It wasn’t just that the immediate point of contact felt good; his whole body felt as though it were tingling. He felt high, which he hadn’t been in years and that was a little unsettling, but as Garrett’s weight came pressing down on him again he let it pin him back into his body in a way that he could never do when he’d been on E, or using coke.

He hadn’t expected Hawke to go so slow and the way he was slowly building up a rhythm felt like it was going to kill him. That or his moaning each time he ground himself down on his cock. Even so, Fenris felt a sense of hesitancy ebb in over letting someone, even Hawke have that much control over him. He felt overwhelmed and weak and he brought his hands up over his face, trying to recollect himself. When he felt Garrett’s hand take his he startled.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Garrett said softly as he paused. He guided Fenris’ hands back over his thighs and rutted in deeply, making him _whine_ which he fucking hated. “Do you want to stop?”

Fenris tightened his grip back over Garrett’s thighs as he seriously considered the question. This is why he preferred to take the lead. There was something broken about him that he didn’t like to think about because he knew all the reasons why. Garrett had told him that he feels like Fenris doesn’t want anything back when they have sex sometimes, and even though it’d hurt to hear that, he couldn’t say that it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to make Garrett feel like he didn’t appreciate him. Tentatively he reached up, taking a handful of Garrett’s belly and squeezing gently.

Maybe that was some of this too; he didn’t really want to analyze why this kink was hitting such a note for him, but the more weight Garrett gained the more he knew that his own appreciation of it was a part of it. It wasn’t about power or manipulation, Garrett just liked being able to turn him on like this. Reverently, Fenris trailed his fingers along the crease that formed with Garrett hunched over him. He felt the anxiety start to ebb away.

Garrett squirmed.

“Okay, I lost you for a second there but uh, I take it you’re uhm…engaged again?” he said.

Fenris’ eyes widened as he realized that Garrett must have stopped because he’d felt Fenris going soft.

“Uhm,” he swallowed then cleared his throat. “Please continue, Garrett.”

As Garrett started moving again, Fenris focused more on the reason why they chose this position; so that he could admire this expansive gut perched over him. This time he reached upwards of it, grabbing the soft flesh in his hands and moving it around, marvelling at how much there was now. In most regards, the gain was still quite modest, not enough to need both hands, and not enough to make him look or feel especially awkward perched up on him. He took note of how his thighs squashed outwards every time he came down, how the edges of his stomach took up more space as everything pressed up against one another. There was a clear crease that formed where he used to be able to clearly pick out the bottom of Hawke’s ribs and even the little bit of fat accumulated around his nipples wobbled a little as he started to pick up his pace. He wasn’t kidding about how much stamina he still had at least.

Fenris felt himself starting to let go again, but it didn’t catch him off guard this time. Hawke wasn’t going to let him disappear off into his own head like that again.

So, by some miracle, he let himself settle into it. The slap of their skin hitting one another was louder and he realized it was because of how much thicker Hawke had gotten. His pert, round ass weighed down on him and his belly bounced dramatically. The way he was arching back made everything shake on full display and this time Fenris reached up and grabbed and pinched on whatever he could get a hold of; his belly, of course, but his pecs and thighs and ass, dragging his hands over Garrett’s. He gave a harsh slap to his belly, bringing out a loud moan that went straight to Fenris’ own throbbing dick.

As he sensed that he was close to coming again, he started trying to help ram Hawke in closer to him, as close as he could get and felt his whole body humming again but without that chaotic terror to derail him.

“Garrett—I’m—“ he tried.

“Just a little longer, love,” Garrett huffed out breathlessly. Fenris dug his fingers in, sinking into the soft meat of Garrett’s hips in a way that he knew would leave a mark; spurned on, Garrett moved faster and every part of him jiggled out-of-control. This time Fenris couldn’t take his eyes off of him, trying to impress everything into memory. It wasn’t just how Garrett felt, it was how he sounded; completely winded, but still grinding like a workhorse to finish.

“Oh, shit, Fen—“

“Please—”

One thing they were good at, almost eerily so, was coming at the same time. There was something about how Hawke tremored throughout his whole body that would always set off Fenris at the same moment; knowing that he’d reached his absolute limit, knowing that he could always wait for him. The combination of everything always had him crying out hardly a breath after the bigger man and this was no different.

As he came all the heat that’d built him in his body flared forward and it was almost too much to feel all at once. He rarely came quite like this, like he had to ride out a wave that threatened to take him under. He knew he was being loud and he didn’t give a shit. He knew that he was bruising Hawke’s skin with how tight he was holding on but he knew that he liked it. He felt Hawke’s hot cum hit his skin and cooled as he started to come down from the peak of the orgasm.

As everything started to go quiet in his head he realized that he was trembling again and felt too weak to move. Hawke was the first to move and take command again, pulling away carefully and reaching down to take off the condom. Fenris felt wrecked. He felt like the core of him was still vibrating slightly and barely registered the tender kiss on his hip just above his pubic hair as Hawke tended to him. He jolted when he felt Hawke’s tongue, hot and lapping up his own cum off of him. He tried to say something snarky about him being vain but couldn’t get his mouth around the words and moaned weakly instead.

“You’re so beautiful, Fen,” Hawke said as he finished, apparently satisfied with his cleaning job. He crawled back up and laid beside him, tracing his fingers over Fenris’ torso and watching him <i>quiver</i> and…even though he felt spent, Fenris couldn’t help but feel like he could go again. Well, maybe after a nap and his body recalibrated into figuring out how to hold itself together. As the sweat cooled he started to feel himself going cold and started tugging at the blankets. Again, Hawke figured it out and got them underneath and pulled him close. His thick thighs tangled in with his legs, his belly pressed up gently between them.

“You don’t let me see you like that very often,” Garrett said. “You were so beautiful.”

Fenris let out a long sigh; too tired to fight off the compliment, especially not when it sounded so sincere. He ghosted his fingertips up over to the swell of Garrett’s love handle and kneaded it softly. Feeling all that soft, warm, flabby flesh he just wanted to keep touching him. He nuzzled his way against Garrett’s throat and traced a small line with his tongue before sucking softly. Garrett encouraged the gentle attention, squeezing his ass.

Fenris gave himself a shake and found the strength to move again and pushed himself up so that he could straddle Garrett’s hips and lay himself over Garrett’s belly. He’d been so full most of the time lately that he didn’t get as much opportunity to appreciate just how hefty and doughy the man was getting. He let out a long sigh and rested his head against Garrett’s softened chest. He folded his arms over Garrett and set his chin on his hands, looking down at Garrett thoughtfully. This kink was fun, but he cared about Garrett, deeply. He’d been so horny lately that he forgot just how emotional sex with this increasingly broad and well-fed man was.

“Thanks for making sure I was okay,” he said quietly.

Hawke pressed his hands up his back reassuringly.

“I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

“I do. Every time,” Fenris assured.

Garrett smiled, eyes crinkling.

“I know, but…that was different. You okay?”

Fenris nodded. He closed his eyes a moment, collecting his thoughts. He felt like he should apologize but he knew that Hawke wouldn’t want to hear him apologize for enjoying himself. But it wasn’t just that. There was lot more behind this for him, things he still didn’t want to talk about and things that Garrett never asked him. He never wanted him too; he was nothing but gratitude for how Garrett could always wait, how the details were never as important to him as having Fenris here now was. He opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard for me to be…open like that. And I’m…I'm embarrassed, that it’s easier with…”

“Me getting all porked out?”

Fenris chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Hawke said, his hands moving soothingly over Fenris’ back. “We would have gotten there eventually anyways. You never asked me to do this, and… I’ve learned a thing or two from Isabela’s awful smutty books; a kink can just be a way of working something out. A sexy, beefy way. I like it.”

Fenris looked over Hawke’s face searchingly, but didn’t find anything to contradict what Hawke was saying.

“You’re still feeling okay? About the extra weight?”

Hawke shook his middle a bit, swaying Fenris with the movement. Fenris felt something in his own stomach flip at the sensation.

“I feel incredibly sexy. Getting all fed up like this…everything feels so soft and sensitive. I’ve been doing it so quickly that everything feels new and exciting; I’ve never felt my body like this before. It’s different.”

“You don’t regret it? You don’t feel like I’m pushing you to do something that you don’t want?”

Hawke hugged Fenris down into him.

“I _want_ this. It’s still fun. If it stops being fun I know you’ll still stick with me anyways.”

Fenris shifted upwards so that he could kiss Hawke.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Hawke wiggled again, this time making Fenris laugh. He clambered off of him and sat up, pulling the duvet around himself. Glancing at the clock, it was still relatively early.

“So…I did sign out a camera and cleared out an SD card,” he said, glancing at Hawke. “You still want to do some photos? Or videos?”

Hawke perched himself up on one elbow. His stomach creased again at the top. He gave his belly a thoughtful pat.

“Well, a shower first, then maybe some pictures just to show where things are at for the sake of comparing later but then I was thinking of doing up some of those shakes.”

“Some?”

“Like…two?”

“So a stuffing video?”

“Wouldn’t it be more of a bloat?”

“Will two be enough?”

“I mean, let’s make three just in case. Oh, and,” Hawke said and went over the side of the bed. He came back up with the skinny jeans he used to wear out dancing. “I want to see if it’s even remotely possible to actually get in these.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke says good-bye to some jeans, Fenris confronts some mixed feelings and Isabela, strangely, is the true voice of reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I didn't mean to reference and talk about so much trauma in this fic but apparently even when I'm trying to have fun I'm in fact no fun; Fenris thinks through some things about Danarius and the non-consensual, coercive and domineering nature of their relationship and how it still affects how he forces regime and control into his life now.
> 
> Trauma is referenced, but not depicted or described in detail and mostly focused on the emotional side rather than anything physical.

The photos were impressive, but the videos were…something else. It was completely inappropriate to be borrowing the equipment from the university for what they were borrowing it for, but as they’d filmed Hawke crush not just the two shakes he had ambitions for, but the third it occurred to Fenris that this type of thing likely happened quite a lot more than he wanted to think about. After all, it wasn’t just the camera that he’d borrowed, but a couple of the lights. The videos were better than anything he’d ever filmed back when he was working and would have been an easy sell.

Which did raise the question of what exactly it was that Hawke intended to use them for, and he decided that the best way to find out was simply to ask.

“Hawke, are you intending to post these or are they just for…us?”

Hawke’s eyes widened.

“Oh, save me, I hadn’t even thought about that. I mean, I meant them just for us? I’m not sure that I want to post something like this.”

“Once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever,” Fenris grimly confirmed. When he’d been hired at the university archives, he’d told them outright what existed of him out there in the world. And he’d done the same for the Queer Resource centre. Danarius, as far as he knew, still sold clips of him. With his tattoos, it was always easy to figure it out that it was him, even if his hair had been black then. Then there was his own stint as a cam boy and the things he’d sold when he’d needed to. Thankfully it hadn’t been an issue in either place, but…it did bother him. Not so much the things he’d sold himself, but anything of Danarius’ filming made his stomach twist thinking about it.

“I…wouldn’t mind sharing the still photos. But only on the sites with other people doing the same thing. It only feels fair.”

Fenris tilted his head a bit.

“I can understand that. But you’re not planning to sell them, right?”

Garrett shook his head.

“No, I don’t want to get into that. I just…wouldn’t mind being able to chat with folks and have proof that I’m not some creep. Or well, prove that I’m the same kind of creep at least.”

“You’re not a creep.”

“Mm, I think I’m a bit of a creep, but thank-you. Anyways, it’d just be interesting to compare notes with people.”

Fenris nodded; he could understand that. He had no idea what Garrett was experiencing. There’s always been little variance in his own body. His relationship with food was very heavily coloured by his relationship with Danarius and the rules that he’d made surrounding every aspect of his life and body. It wasn’t something that he’d ever quite been able to dismantle. He still had that stupid app on his phone to calculate his calorie intake and measure his time in the gym. He tried not to look at it and did so with varying degrees of success.

“I can’t ever be in anything that you post,” he said, voice low and hoarse.

Garrett practically fell over himself to get over to Fenris, carefully turning the chair he was sitting in at the desktop.

“Fenris, I would never.”

The earnestness in his voice made a tight knot in Fenris’s stomach. Hawke meant it. And as clumsy as he was sometimes, and how maybe Izzy knew a little too much about their sex life, he knew that it wasn’t ever going to go further than that.

“Thank-you,” he said quietly. He leaned forward and gave Hawke a quick peck, then turned back to the screen. He didn’t _need_ to edit the video but his propensity to seek perfection saw to it that he did. Hawke’s attention drifted back to his own laptop, perched on his lap. Fenris glanced over, confirming that yes, his belly did overlap the front lip of it a bit now. He took in a breath and refocused on the task at hand.

Looking at the footage objectively, or as principally objective as he could, it was fascinating to catalogue the changes in Hawke’s body this way. He’d done a decent job of lighting and the sound levels were good; it a was a good amateur video and nearly a shame that Hawke wasn’t planning to share it. But for each person that was kind, there were at least ten who’d be willing to be unkind. He didn’t want that for Hawke, not when he was enjoying himself so much. He seemed to have found his little corner of the internet that was _encouraging_ and filled with own little niche of people who were happy to indulge in this kink and never go past usernames.

Fenris ran his fingers over his throat; the tattoos had been dug in deep into his skin, the white pigment needing to be deep to take. He was sure that it wasn’t solely Danarius’ ink that caused them to be so stark; they were raised high on his skin, as much scar as they were ink. The tone of his skin had been ideal for it, making him even less of an accidental selection. Danarius had always known what he intended for him.

It would be nice to have some videos of them together, he thought. But he couldn’t. Once he was in front of the camera, he knew he’d freeze up. And once the files existed, they’d twist around in his thoughts more than he needed them to.

Hawke, perhaps sensing his anxiety as he passed on his way to the washroom, leaned over behind him and pressed a soft, sweet kiss in against his neck, then another on the exposed skin of his back. He said nothing and went on his way and Fenris was so, so grateful for the rhythm they had together.

There were few tricky spots in the sound, but after some work he was able to finish everything relatively quickly. They’d decided to film everything without Garrett’s face in the shot, just in case the videos did somehow get beyond their control. It was depersonalizing, which perhaps is what made it easier to get through without being too distracted. What he loved about watching Garrett eat was the little wincing grimaces that crossed his face, the look of utter satisfaction from being so terribly glutted that the rest of his body seemed to melt around the sensation and the hazy, aroused look that floated up when Fenris started to touch him.

Not that watching his flabby gut bounce around as he struggled to get these jeans up over his thighs and then his ass wasn’t hot as fuck. He still _knew_ that it was Garrett. He pushed the video back to the beginning, this time intending to watch it fully through. Today was his one day completely off from either job. If he spent most of it editing these videos, so be it. One down, one to go.

Except, Garrett clearly had other ideas.

“That can wait,” he announced and dragged Fenris away from the screen. “If I learned anything from that experience, it’s that I need some new clothes before there’s a very public mishap.”

Hawke had gotten the jeans up, eventually. He’d even gotten them buttoned. What they hadn’t expected throughout the filing however was either for the loops to tear as he hauled the stubborn fabric over his ass or for the button to unceremoniously pop off as he relaxed his growing midriff. Fenris had narrowly missed hitting the damned tripod out of surprise. It was all he could do to not touch and feel and examine everything for his own. Titillating viewing though it would have been, he couldn’t cross the threshold to be in the shot.

The first stop was not for clothes but rather for discounted Hallowe’en candy. The holiday itself meant very little to Fenris, reminding him more grimly of his younger days than he’d like and for each Hawke and Fenris there were few trick-or-treaters that came into apartment buildings. He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d dressed up but assumed that it’d been for some sort of holiday special video that he’d probably sold as clips.

Walking through the wreckage of pilfered aisles in the supermarket was enough for him. And luckily, they were early enough that it was enough for Hawke as well. With the spoils tucked away in Leandra’s car, they made way for the mall in search of some new additions to Garrett’s wardrobe.

“I can’t tell if I’m still bloated from everything yesterday or if I’m just getting fat,” Garrett said, trying to deliberate between two pairs of jeans. “I don’t want to get both if I’m just going to burst through one by next week.”

Fenris closed his eyes. He knew that Garrett was just thinking aloud as he was so often wont to do, but it was…distressing.

“Maybe a belt?” he suggested, his voice reedy. Garrett pecked him on the cheek.

“Ever the voice of reason.”

Garrett went back into the changing room to try and parse out what size of shirt he should be wearing. When he came back out, he was wearing the larger slacks with a shirt that had maybe still just a bit too much room. The weight he’d added to his frame was of course still present, but not as glaringly obvious as it had been with his previous set of clothes. It was almost disappointing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll eat my way out of them soon enough,” Garrett said slyly before stepping back behind the curtain. Fenris wanted both to throw something at him and for the frames of the video they’d shot the night before to stop replaying in his mind. As the loop had _broken off_ the jeans in the gargantuan effort to pull them up, it’d jerked his stomach so harshly that the wobble was viciously mesmerizing. He’d had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from ruining the fucking audio what would otherwise be a cry of surprise to match Garrett’s.

“I don’t think I’m quite ready for the next size up of shirt,” Garrett said.

“You should get it anyways. So that you’re not caught off guard,” Fenris reasoned.

“Good idea,” Garrett agreed. “The green or the pink?”

“Not the blue?”

“I’m trying to branch out.”

“The green, then.”

“Nah, I like the pink.”

Fenris pinched his temples at the response. He loved Hawke, he did. But shopping with him when he wasn’t wild about shopping himself was a nightmare that he usually left for Izzy when she was in town.  
  
He sighed, wondering when she’d be back. She’d promised that she’d be back by Christmas, for fear of being skinned alive for skipping the festivities by Leandra but he did hope that it was at least a few days before that. For himself, the winter break would be a bit slower, with the university closed; he’d be able to focus more on the queer archives and overall, work less hours. The centre would be open for most of the holidays, even staffed on Christmas eve and day with their own celebrations, the consideration of chosen families in mind. Leandra had already offered to send some cooking over for them.

By time they left the store, Hawke had purchased two pairs of pants for work and two pairs of jeans along with the larger shirt and Fenris had a moment of thinking that maybe Hawke _should _sell some videos if only to cover the cost of food and changing over his wardrobe. However, all he said that he was grateful for his “cushy new office job”. He didn’t seem worried about it and Fenris tried to let it go. He trusted that Garrett wouldn’t literally eat himself out of house and home. Just…his clothes. He left in the larger clothing that he’d purchased and looked far more comfortable without everything looking painted on. Nothing truly hid how big he was getting, but none of the new additions stressed how quickly he had gotten there.

They stopped for a late lunch in the food court and as Hawke ordered himself two burgers with fries and a large soda without batting an eye, Fenris couldn’t help but feel a sense of creeping envy that he could do so with so little anxiety. Not that Fenris wanted to eat like him; he didn’t think it was even possible for him to eat that much before the guilt took over or exceeding his capacity made him ill. But it was the…comfort he seemed to have with his own body. The ability to choose for himself with so little complication. He didn’t resent Garrett for it, not at all, but it highlighted his own incapability to change; a recurring theme for the day, it seemed.

When Garrett got up to go order himself some donuts from a separate vendor, Fenris felt every thought in his brain dissolving down to two things; envy and arousal.

“I got one for you too,” Garrett said.

Both feelings quashed down; he hadn’t asked for anything. But he bit his first choice of words and nodded.

“Thank-you, I’ll eat it later,” he said, slipping it into his bag.

“Want to walk?” Hawke asked. Usually he was keyed into what Fenris was feeling, but either Fenris was mediating his own feelings better or Hawke had just gotten accustomed to ordering large quantities of food and just didn’t register that maybe that donut was going to end up back with him anyways. Either way, Fenris felt himself go flush with embarrassment and ducked his head down to try and hide it. He didn’t want to react this way every time Garrett just did something thoughtful for him.

Sometimes, he forgot that they’d only been officially dating a handful of months, even if they’d been friends for years now. The distinctions blurred, sometimes.

By time they left the mall, Hawke’s belly was starting to look comfortably full with a few more additional snacks. The stop at the market promised that he’d push past that by time they reached the end of the day.

Fenris did notice that, perhaps realizing the literal financial cost of gaining had affected Garrett’s food choices. Today was an exception, but he favored things that could be purchased in bulk and made in large enough quantities that he could put some away for later. Pastas, cheese, starch, ice cream, and any junk food he could find a fair deal on were obvious choices but he’d also started buying foods that packed nutrition more than just a high fat content like nuts, chia seeds and other hippy dippy things that he’d surely picked out from some of Leandra’s cookbooks. The resulting recipes weren’t bad, Fenris had to admit. They were things that didn’t even offend his own palate when he’d deigned to taste them. They just also happened to be packed with quite a lot more fat and calories than he’d ever intend to wilfully seek out.

“The only time I’d ever gained a lot of weight without meaning to was when I tried being vegan, you know, in support of mum,” Garrett had explained.

Which is perhaps how about midway through November, Fenris caught himself having to suck in his stomach to get his own jeans closed. If he’d been in a hurry, he might not have even noticed the gesture, but as he relaxed his stomach, he was shocked to see that there was a distinctly pinched look to the divide between his skin and his jeans. With Garrett’s increasing weight so present on his mind he was not at all susceptible to excuses like clothing being shrunk in the wash or perhaps accidentally pulling on an extremely old pair of jeans; he’d been the same size for as long as he could remember. If a 30 waist didn’t fit it could only mean on thing; he’d gained weight and enough of it to overshoot his original endeavour of simply regaining what he’d lost.

He hardly dared to look too closely, but to properly assess the change he knew that he had to. He undid the jeans and pushed them back down so he could have a proper look in the mirror.

In truth, it wasn’t much. He was tall enough that a few extra pounds didn’t make much of an outward difference, but he was so used to wearing that one style of skinny jean that any change was especially noticeable. They only pinched at his front, not really effecting his sides. His hip bones were still plenty clear, but it was evident as he turned to his side that his stomach bowed out slightly and the softness, though slight, couldn’t help but push upwards over his waistband, even just from his briefs. He prodded at the offending flesh and felt a pool of heat well in the base of his stomach.

Embarrassing. It should be _embarrassing_.

And, it was. But it also…

He turned away from the mirror yanked the jeans back up and yes, _sucking in_ to button, then pulled on his sweater. His tops all tended to be loose and this was no exception as it graciously covered the telling sight of his waistband pinching at the slight softness gathered around his middle. He was thirty-six years old; older than Hawke despite appearances and if this was the moment his metabolism was going to start slowing down, he supposed that he should be grateful it wasn’t sooner.

It’s just that, he hadn’t been _overeating_. And certainly not the way that Hawke did. He’d simply made sure to eat regular meals after realizing that he’d been running a bit dangerously on the low side of his average weight.

But he knew that wasn’t all; as Hawke became accustomed to eating throughout the day, he’d also made sure, out of concern and simply out of politeness, to be sharing with Fenris. He’d come by for lunch whenever he was at the resource centre and really make sure that he’d eaten his lunch as well as supplying extra. And he couldn’t discount Sebastian either; the man’s stress baking was reaching all time highs and if he thought back on it, it was clear that the baker himself was looking like he was carrying a little more up front himself. He heard Josephine, one of the full-time councillors, loudly trying to fend him off, complaining that it was all going to her hips. She wasn’t wrong.

Fenris took a deep breath, then closed his eyes as he felt the heat rise in his face when he relaxed, feeling the tightness of his waistband dig in slightly. It wasn’t enough to make him feel as though he needed to rigorously restructure his entire schedule and exercise like a maniac. He just needed to make more of an effort to fit in time for the gym and stop accepting so many of the extras throughout the day. His jeans would fit again, as intended, in no time at all. Besides, the real focus was Hawke.

Garrett, true to his word had lightened up on the eating throughout the day because he felt like it was interrupting his focus for work. However, he still snacked effectively, and when he got home each evening dutifully downed shakes of varying recipes on top of large dinners. He _had _slowed down number wise on the scale, but it also took more to fill him up now. And the number was ticking upwards regardless.

Most tantalizing and most confirming of Fenris’ wisdom was the purchase of the shirt that he hadn’t quite needed yet. Garrett’s outfits for work was almost achingly conservative and if it weren’t for the splashes of colour he’d run the danger of looking like a Mormon bible salesman. However, for the sake of practicality, nearly every item of clothing he’d purchased when he first got the job was the same item just purchased in multiple and in a different colours. So, when he outgrew one shirt, he’d outgrown them all. And at first, he hadn’t even noticed.

But Fenris did. Increasingly, Garrett was fussing over his shirt coming untucked. Which, even when they fit, a shirt was easily become at least slightly untucked throughout the day from simply moving around and as such naturally needed adjustment now and again. But it was getting excessive and it was clear as to why; something about the last seven pounds had marked a bit of a tipping point. Garrett’s belly which had throughout this whole process always ventured the side of being a bit of a potbelly was now fully and truly just that; a pot belly. His healthy office paunch which had been soft, and yielding had finally rounded out not just in front but fully to encompass his sides. It _bounced_ when he stifled a burp or had the hiccups. In fact, it had a bit of _bounce _just from his walking. It’d only been a couple weeks since they’d taken photos of Hawke’s growing belly, but Fenris made a note borrow the camera again since it was clear they needed another update.

Maybe he should take some of his own photos, he thought ruefully, palming the gentle swell of his own stomach again. He shook his head. He couldn’t think of a time in his life where he’d ever had a change like that happen on his body without him noticing because it _hadn’t ever happened_. It wasn’t bad. Being chubby our out rightly fat wasn’t bad, he absolutely knew and believed that. And it didn’t have to be about a kink.

Yet, knowing all that didn’t change the sinking feeling of dread he was experiencing over acknowledging that it had in fact happened. If it’d happened when he’d been…when Danarius had been controlling everything, he’d have been punished for certain. It wouldn’t have just been starving him back down to the shape Danarius liked best, it would have been more than that. Things he didn’t want to think of and didn’t want to have any sway over his decisions. Things that if he’d asked for, would have been different but he’d _never _asked for it unless he was told to.

It’d been over ten years since he’d found the wherewithal to finally and successfully escape Danarius and _still_ he hadn’t fully been able to break free of him. The feeling it left him with was simply, disgust.

By time he made it into the center he was in a foul mood. Sebastian’s latest baking was already on his desk and he stuck it into the Tupperware he’d brought in preparation; he didn’t want to throw it away for risk of being found out but it did also seem a shame to waste it. As much as he wasn’t likely to seek out sweets on his own, he did appreciate that Sebastian seemed to take great care in his baking. He just didn’t want it sticking to his middle at any quicker of a rate than it already had been. It was too evident a marker of how much his life had changed in the years since and he wasn’t ready to see it. Or wear it, he supposed.

Somewhere just after noon when Hawke arrived with what had become a customary lunch hour visit was when Fenris realized that he was beginning to spiral. Garrett chattered for a while but eventually realized that Fenris was more quiet than usual.

“Are you okay?” Hawke asked.

“I’m fine,” Fenris said quickly. He took a breath. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

“Mm, not entirely convincing; anything you want to talk about?”

Fenris let out a low breath, part of an effort to re-orientate himself. He waved a hand, trying to grasp at the right words for what he was feeling. His stomach pinched at his waist from the extra softness that had accumulated there but ironically, also from being poorly satisfied with what he’d bothered to eat from the spread Hawke had graciously brought to share with him.

“I just…feel like things are a bit beyond my control at the moment.”

Hawke hummed in agreement.  
  
“You have been working a lot. And we’ve been paying a lot more attention to me lately,” he said, giving his generous side a pat. “Maybe we should put this nonsense off for a bit?”

“It’s…it’s not that. I mean…” he tried but found himself becoming increasingly flustered. He didn’t want to bring up the little bit of weight that he’d gained for fear of it sounding like he felt ashamed of it. It wasn’t the weight itself; it was the _change_. He was nearly certain of that. But that was complicated to explain without getting into…everything else.

Besides, shouldn’t he_ want_ change? Shouldn’t any difference from how things had been be greeted with celebration for that fact that he could have it without recrimination?

He felt a bit sick.

“I think it’s just too much for me to balance all at once, at the moment,” he said. And that was honest, at least. He drew his gaze back up to Hawke, realizing that’d he’d completely hunched over.

“I love you,” he said. He didn’t mean for it to sound so pained. His panic amped up as he saw Garrett go tense. Of course he’d think that, of course he’d think that this was some sort of prelude to what had happened between them so many years ago now, the first time they’d had sex and he’d been so sure that he was ready only to tell Hawke that he _couldn’t _keep a relationship with him and maintain that line for another _three_ years. _Of course_ he’d think that was happening again because that’s what it sounded like to blurt out that he loved him like that. He wanted to reach across and touch him but was too afraid to feel Garrett recoil. He drew into himself instead and just tried to remember to breathe.

He startled, abruptly when he felt Garrett’s hand fall on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Garrett assured him. “I love you too.”

This time Fenris let himself reach over to Garrett and take hold. Instead of recoiling, Garrett scooted his chair closer so that he could take him up in his arms. Though it was awkward and though he felt weak, Fenris brought his arms up around the larger man and gripped his fingers in tight. Cautiously, Garrett started rubbing his back, tentative at first but when Fenris didn’t seem to bolt did it more firmly. It was grounding. It made the world and thoughts quiet enough to focus on his own heartbeat, which yes, was going much too quickly.

“What about your work, shouldn’t—” he tried to say once he realized that they’d already been close to the hour Garrett had once he’d started getting…flustered.

“Don’t worry about it, no one’s going to be upset.”

Fenris let himself linger. Garrett was soft and warm and _big_ in all the ways he wished he didn’t find so comforting because it meant letting himself feel small. But relenting to that was something he found that he could do; of course, it was still a lot of talk in his own head in convincing himself that this was a good change and that it was real and that it meant something to be able to trust someone this way; that he was in fact capable of trusting someone to catch him.

He let out a long sigh against Garrett’s chest; this thing they were doing, this crocodile rat-brain kink they were indulging in was supposed to be _fun_. And, it was. He liked how Hawke looked, how the softness suited him and bespoke of a calm and playful hedonism. He just hadn’t expected it to creep up on his own body the way that it had.

The only thing that’d made it possible for him to break free from Danarius was to take all the systems of control he’d made and take it for himself. He hadn’t done much remodelling it. Routines were safe and his choices were also about building environments that would keep him safe.

“Can I have a couple days to think about things? Before we talk?” Fenris finally said, bumping his head on Hawke’s shoulder to get his attention. He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that, but he was starting to feel an ache in his back from the awkward position.

“Yes, of course. But uh, just so I’m not like, freaking out—you’re not breaking up with me, are you? I mean, unless you are which maybe tell me later be—”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” Fenris said, straightening up in his chair. He smiled warmly and meant it. Hawke signed with relief.

“Bless Andraste’s perky bosom,” he said. Fenris laughed.

“I’m definitely not breaking up with you,” Fenris said, voice sounding hoarse but earnest. “It’s just…I have some things I need to think through. Some things that I don’t usually think about. I might call Izzy to talk it through?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It’s just stuff from…before.”

“With Danarius,” Garrett said, his voice dropping and sounding uncharacteristically dangerous. Fenris went still at the sound of the man’s name aloud on another’s lips. He didn’t like to hear his name. Hadn’t liked it when his scouting agent had come sniffing around trying to bring him back and hadn’t liked it when Danarius had gone so far as to find and send his sister to_ extort_ him into coming back. If he could, he’d like to rip the man’s name away from anyone ever knowing it at all. Except, he knew what kind of work it was to break down someone’s own mind until they questioned everything about what they did and who they were, and he wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone.

“Yes. Him.”  
  


* * *

Luckily, some time to himself wasn’t an uncommon request so they already had expectations of what that would look like. They made sure to check in on one another for the next couple of days but refrained from both any in-depth conversations over text and from the more casual stuff like sending dumb pictures and memes. Those were mostly things from Hawke’s end, but he was always remarkably well-behaved when asked. Even after one day he did feel a bit lonely from the absence, but was grateful for it, nonetheless. And, he did call Izzy.

“Fenris,” Isabela said. She always said his name like it was something grandiose. “It has been far too long since I’ve heard the delectable tones of your growling and sniping.”

“I didn’t call for either of those things.”

“Oh, poo. Not even a little?”

“Maybe if you’re good,” Fenris said flatly.

“Now, it’s not fair to tease me like that. I know you’re practically married.”

“Isabela,” he said, warning. There was a pause on the other end.

“You sound tired,” she said. “Is everything alright? Garrett get his foot stuck in his mouth again?”

Fenris scoffed.

“Everything but his foot; no, it’s not about Garrett. Not really.”

“What’s going on?”

Fenris shuffled his feet, leaning against the frame to his room. He hadn’t eaten yet; had spooked himself well out of eating all day. And yeah, he was hungry, but he needed to deal with this first even if being hungry was part of what was putting him on edge. He sighed and almost considered tell Isabela never mind. He walked back over to his computer and took a seat, scrolling through the videos he’d pulled up. His videos. Or, the ones that Danarius had made of him. They were still for sale, just as he suspected. And they were still reasonably popular if the downloads count was anything to trust.

“I…I don’t really know where to start.”

“Oh, you are really making me nervous now. Are you sick? Is Garrett sick?”

“No!”

“Okay, good. And no one died?”

“Izzy—”

“Well?”

“No, no one died.”

“Okay those are the two big ones; so what it is it?”

_I’m getting fat?_ Except it wasn’t that. Not really. But maybe a place to start. He took a deep breath.

“So you know Garrett has been—”

“Porking out? He really is! I saw his Instagram. He looks _adorable_.”

“Not really how I’d put it…anyways, I—” he cut himself off. It shouldn’t be so hard to say. He cleared his throat. “I put on a bit of weight too, without noticing.”

“Really?”

_“Yes,”_ he hissed, annoyed.

“Well if you didn’t really notice, it’s not much, right? If it is though, that’s okay too you know. Oh, you’d look so cute all soft and plump.”

“I’m not cute,” Fenris growled.

“Fenris, if there is one thing that you have always been, it’s unequivocally cute. And sexy. Oh, I miss your leather days.”

Fenris felt a blush creeping up on his face.

“I’m not cute,” he said again.

“Sexy-cute is a fine and difficult line to walk, take it as a compliment. But so you gained some weight; it happens. It happens to me all the time. What was I when we met? Like 160? But then 140. And then what was it, _175_ that one summer? My point being some people just fluctuate. I have like three different wardrobes depending on where I’m at.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never had it happen before. And it was…it just caught me off guard.”

“Dove, you’re what, thirty-four?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Your body is not going to be the same as it was when you were twenty-five.”

For some reason, that’s what let him snap.

“Well that’s just it; ten years ago, I was trying to fucking get away from Danarius and all I had left was the body he made me have!”

Isabela went quiet on the other end of the line.

“Right,” she said softly. “Him then.”

“I didn’t mean to shout. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you barely raised your voice anyways. Fenris, do you know how much I weighed when I left my husband?”

“How much?”

“I was 115 pounds.”

“What?”

“Yep. Dainty little thing, waifish and _starved_. No muscle. No thighs to crush his tiny, stupid head in. Maybe you weren’t waifish, but Danarius did the same thing to you, didn’t he? Made you what he thought was the ideal and _ideal_ was what he could control.”

Fenris closed his eyes a moment. He didn’t have to click play on any of the video preview to know what he’d see; he’d been lean but on the side of skinny. He’d been almost _petite_ back in the earliest videos, something fragile that Danarius always liked push to the point of breaking. _His little wolf. _Orphaned and saved by him; the exchange? Let him be his canvas.

“Fenris?” Isabela said, sounding far away. He drifted back to the sound of her voice. “Have you eaten yet today?”

“A little," he lied.

“You still need to eat, even if you want to lose the weight. Look, maybe it’s just more pervasive conversation with women so I’ve had a chance to think about it more, but the first thing I knew that I wanted to do when I left my husband was that I just wanted to enjoy my life. What that meant for me was not feeling half-crazed out of my mind from starving all the time and denying myself everything that I wanted. Sue me, I love cake. And booze. And I _knew_ that was going to mean putting on some weight, but it didn't bother me because it was what I wasn’t allowed to be before. And I’m not saying that I feel completely sexy all the time—even if I absolutely am. If you’re worried about how it looks, I understand, but I don’t think you _need_ to worry. You just need to adjust."

“I don’t know if it’s how it looks that bothers me.”

“Do you like it?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Is it that it makes you feel like you’ve lost control that bothers you?”

“Yes,” Fenris said firmly.

“Okay; the routine that you had before, has it changed much since Danarius?”

“…no. Except that I haven’t been following it lately.”

“Because you’ve been working so much and because you’ve been spending what little time you have with Hawke.”

“Yes.”

“So…because you’ve been happy?”

Fenris didn’t answer.

“Have you been happy, Fenris?” Isabela pushed.

He has been happy. Happier than he’d ever been before with more than he’d ever had in his life. He usually wanted to spend as much of his time as possible with Hawke; if there something to learn from this working situation it was that he didn’t want to find himself in it again. Not because he’d put on a bit of weight, but because it seriously cut into his time with Hawke.

“I’ve never felt this happy before,” he said quietly. He closed the window on his internet browser. There wasn’t anything he could do about those videos. He’d signed consent forms, he’d been paid. It didn’t make how it happened right, but there wasn’t any real recourse for him legally. Let Danarius have his damn tattoo shop and high-end fetish site with it’s nearly thirty dollar a month subscription fee. He didn’t have to look at it or pay it and if he had to renew the restraining order one day, he’d do it.

“Hm, so it sounds to me that if you let go of a bit of control, maybe it makes space for other things? I swear we’ve had this conversation before. We have, right?”

Fenris chuckled.

“Yes, I get your point.”

“And?”

“Thank-you. It helps to hear someone put it together.”

“You’re welcome.”

Fenris pinched at the extra flesh on his stomach. He really wasn’t sure of it. He’d have to talk to Hawke about it either way. He couldn’t say that it was nothing after asking for some space and if he didn’t out rightly tell him that he needed to keep his own eating habits separate of him he’d actually have to go out of his way to say so.

“You going to talk to Hawke?”

“Of course,” Fenris said. He was. “I just…I don’t want it to sound like I’m upset about a little bit of weight. Not when he’s…you know.”

“When you think that he looks flaming hot all round and soft? He is such a bear. I just want to get him all leathered up and put a—”

“Isabela,” Fenris sighed.

“What? If you haven’t, you’re clearly depriving yourself.”

“It’s not the point.”

“I know, dove,” she said gently. “I know that you aren’t judgmental of anyone’s size, but it is different when it’s happening to you. This gaining thing, it’s mostly just because it’s him, isn’t it? I’m not saying you didn’t appreciate my curves and lumps and rolls whenever we had sex, but it was more incidental, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Fenris admitted. “I think we were focused on other things.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve never met someone who can edge as well as you can. You know how to make a girl wait and it was_ delicious._”

Fenris blushed.

“You blushing?”

_“Yes,”_ he hissed.

“You’re still on the monogamy train though, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What if it’s just strictly sex? You ever want a third?”

“Isabela, this is harassment.”

“You’re so stingy. There’s more than enough of him to go around these days.”

“Anyways,” Fenris prompted.

_“Anyways_, yes. What are you going to do?”

Fenris leaned back in the chair, stared at the ceiling as though it might hopefully have at least a clue written on it. It didn't.

“I don’t know, go back to the gym more, I guess.”

Isabela made a pained noise.

“Do you even have time?”

“Not really.”

“You know that it _is_ an option to just not worry about it right now? Honestly, it’s the perfect time of year for it; you won’t be the only one and with those ghastly oversized sweaters of yours the only one who’ll actually _maybe_ notice is Hawke and he won’t hold it against you.”

He hummed, thinking through it. _Not_ worrying, obsessing and creating about a hundred different scenarios in his head about a thing wasn't really his strong suit.

“I’ve never seen myself…bigger, before.”

“Would you hate it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then…just relax a little. If you happen to put on a bit more weight, you’ll know and if you don’t like it, then change it when you have time; you know that you can. And I meant it, I think you’d look cute.”

“I hate looking cute. I’m thirty-six, remember?”

“Please, I bet you still get carded. That hair of yours is in style right now. Anyways, I think Merrill and I are the only one’s who’d describe you as cute. Hawke tends to go for _smouldering_. Varric still thinks you’re one moment away from manslaughter.”

Fenris chuckled.

“Good, let him think that.”

“Hey dove, I have to go. Send me pictures if you embrace the dad-bod life before I get there. That’s in style right now too.”

“Wait, Izzy, when will you be back in town?”

“I should be a few days before the big dinner. Can I stay at yours?”

“Yeah of course. I’ll stay with Garrett while you’re here and you can have it for yourself.”

“Can we have a sleep over with Hawke?”

“No threesome, Isabela.”

Isabela groaned.

“You don’t know. Maybe the spirit of holiday cheer takes over and the ghost of Christmas sexy will visit. That or all the booze I’m buying us might be inspiring."

_“Bye_, Izzy.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-negotiating boundaries is an important thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a sexy chapter, but a short and gentle one.
> 
> Mentions of past sexual and emotional trauma, disordered eating and body image issues due to an abusive domineering relationship.

Fenris nudged the handle on his mug around, staring down at the acrid black surface of his coffee. There weren’t a lot of things that embarrassed him but unfortunately this was one of them and unfortunately it was complicated. Maybe _most_ unfortunately was that he had to talk about it.

But…he’d never had someone like Garrett to talk to about things like this. He took a slow breath, knowing that Garrett’s clear blue eyes were watching him patiently. Patiently; not intently. He was grateful for that because scrutiny would only make his apprehension worse.

“This is hard,” Fenris said finally, looking up. Garrett was hunched over his cup, looking big and soft and gentle. He gave a quick nod.

“Take your time,” he said easily.

“…thank-you.”

Fenris paused again. His chest felt tight. His fingers felt tense. He was glad that they were at his place instead of Garrett’s. There was nothing wrong with Garrett’s, not even the dog who was old enough now to largely be content with lounging. Fenris’ studio wasn’t big or even all that conveniently located, but he liked having the space for himself. There was a sparseness to it, but it didn’t feel impermanent. He’d lived here nearly the entire time he’d been in Kirkwall. It was _his_.

“Isabela helped me get this place,” he said. Maybe if he didn’t charge into the conversation directly, he could walk himself around and into it. Garrett’s brows pinched and Fenris smiled. “Sorry. I need to start talking about something before I convince myself not to.”

“Warm-up round?” Garrett asked, smiling a little.

Fenris felt his heart ache a little; Garrett knew him that well. He gave a quick nod and restarted.

“When I moved to Kirkwall, I didn’t have anything someone should have at twenty-five. No ID, no record of employment, nothing to fill out on a rental application. Leaving him made so many other problems. It wasn’t cathartic to be free and I wanted it to be, but it wasn’t. I was scared, and angry. I didn’t know where or how to start to fix all the problems that came up because I didn’t have him taking care of me.”

“You found a way though,” Hawke said, voice quiet.

“Yeah. You know how Izzy and I met.”

Garrett nodded. He knew pieces. He knew that he’d met Izzy at a bar he’d been using to pick up johns. That was all Garrett really needed to know and it was as far as he’d ever explained. Garrett didn’t know that Izzy had clocked his game immediately and instead of making him feel embarrassed about it or running him out, pointed out who was trouble and where he was overstepping. Gave him her number in case he got in trouble. Never told him to stop, even when he was looking rough. Helped him get clean when he got a little _too_ rough. She bothered to get to know him and looked for opportunities to help him piece his life together. Not _back_ together; he’d had to have had his own life in the first place to put it back together.  
  
She took care of him because she saw something she recognized.

“She helped me a lot. She co-signed the original lease on this place. There’s…” Fenris trailed. “She did a lot for me. She still does. Mm…” he sucked in a tight breath again. “This is going to sound so stupid when I finally get to it.”

“Hey, I’m a professional in stupid. Whatever it is, I’ve been certified to handle it.”

Fenris laughed.

Isabela had helped him make a life of his own. Taught how to make breaking rules fun. Let him learn how to _enjoy_ sex instead of letting it only be about exchange and payment and power. She was, and still is, his best friend.

And then she introduced him to Garrett.

He looked over Garrett’s face; softer now like the rest of him, but still open and easy to read and understand. Garrett never tried to impress anyone but wasn’t arrogant enough to make that his whole personality. He was confident without having to put someone else down. It was impossible not to be drawn to him with his natural habit of making space for everyone in the room.

The last thing Fenris had expected was to _fall in love_ with him. For as long as he could he told himself that Garrett was just kind to everyone but eventually he couldn’t put aside that how he loved Garrett was so much different from how he loved Izzy. Fenris hadn’t thought that he had the capacity to love like that. If there was anything good about him, he’d been certain that Danarius had taken it from him.

Except he hadn’t taken it and Garrett saw it without even having to look for it and that was nothing short of a miracle.

“I love you,” Garrett said, voice so soft that Fenris had barely heard it. Garrett’s eyes widened, seeming to have surprised himself with his own voice. “Uh. Sorry. I just…you were looking at me like I was just uuuhm, I don’t know, this whole world and all I could think was you’re my favourite part of this whole bloody universe and—oh wow, you are really, _really_ blushing.”

“You’re not making this easier,” Fenris said accusingly.

“But you love me too, of course.”

Fenris glared.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” he said, trying to keep his voice steely. But even he could hear how much he meant it. At least Hawke, oaf that he was, was blushing just as badly now.

Fenris took a deep breath and let out a small strangled cry.

“This is actually dumb enough to make me feel better about my thing now,” Fenris said. “Garrett, the point; Isabela helped being a person fucking possible for me but to do that meant…I had to learn how to break a lot of rules that Danarius had made for me. He controlled everything. What I wore, how I spoke, who I was with, how I was with them and…renegotiating made me feel like I was being ripped apart. The whole reason I started doing sex work was because it was at least work that I knew how to negotiate, and I was so filled up with rage and hurt that I felt like I could defend myself against anything. There are still so many things that I do in specific ways because of him. And one of those things is how I deal with my body.”

He watched as Garrett tried to put what he was saying together.

“Uhm…is this about me buying you food?” he ventured. “I know you don’t like when I buy you things, but with how much I’ve been eating I just hate not also having some to share. And whenever you’ve cooked you’ve been…generous? I think I’ve just been subconsciously trying to balance it out.”

Fenris shifted uncomfortably and took a sip of coffee, which now was lukewarm.

“Well, it’s a little bit about that,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat. “It’s more…it’s okay. I’ve…it’s gotten easier to let you do that."

“I can stop. If you want me to stop. I didn’t mean for it to become a habit.”

He had thought about if he wanted to ask Garrett to stop but wasn’t sure what decision he’d come to after talking to Isabela. But now with the offer to stop on the table, he realized he didn’t really want to. He liked spending time with Garrett, obviously, and with him being so busy sharing their meals and going for coffee together had become especially valuable. Letting Garrett visit him at work for lunch was almost a point of pride; he liked having his boyfriend come and dote on him a little and have that be seen. Maybe it was selfish, but he liked seeing how Sebastian was a little jealous once he’d realized that Fenris was spoken for, and he like how Josephine had been quick to steal him for a break to wheedle out all the details on his “handsome teddy bear of a boyfriend”.

With Garrett it wasn’t surveillance; it was simply endearment. He always came excited to share what he’d made the night before and would talk his ear off with whatever new recipe he’d tried. He’d always known that Garrett was a proficient cook, but he hadn’t realized just how passionate he was about it. Listening to him talk so knowledgably about something he loved was incredibly sexy.

And so, with Garrett doing so much talking, he apparently just did that much more eating while he listened.

Ah. _Relationship weight_. Why it hadn’t crossed his mind in application to himself until this moment was beyond him. Maybe it really was because this _was_ the first significant relationship of his choosing that he’d ever been in that he’d just had no point of reference for it.

“I gained some weight,” Fenris said blandly. “I weigh more than I ever have in my life. I didn’t notice it happening and I overreacted when I did.”

Maybe he’d been worried that Garrett would laugh at him or be dismissive or that he would try to reassure him by showering him with compliments. None of those things were anywhere what he wanted.

And…none were what he got.

Instead Garrett had that serious look he got when he was really listening and reading between the lines. The look that wasn’t concerned, exactly, because it was underlined with a note of anger that was unusual to see from him. Anger was too light of a word. If there was anyone that Garrett hated it was Danarius. Garrett had only ever encountered Danarius twice himself and Fenris had always been sparse on the details of everything that had transpired to have left such impact on him. But Garrett wasn’t an idiot.

“I don’t think it’s overreacting to feel overwhelmed or surprised by something that you would have been shamed, ridiculed and violently punished for in the past.”

_Violently_. Yes, it would have been violent.

Fenris shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms over his chest, shielding either himself from Garrett and his kindness or shielding Garrett from what felt like rage and shame that would furl out and choke him.

“…thank-you,” he said. His heart was beating too quickly. “I didn’t want you to think I was upset with you for it or make you think that I thought you were…disgusting.”

_Disgusting_ was the word that Danarius would have started with. He would have said that he was being a lazy, slobby house pet. Greedy, ungrateful. That for all that he did for him, he should at least be gracious enough to “take care” of himself, maintain all the _work_ he’d put into him. He’d have pinched the offending flesh until it hurt and maybe even more than that. Maybe until he bled. Danarius knew how much pain he could take,_ relished_ in knowing. There’d be punishment and a meal and gym plan for the _pig_ until he looked the way he was “supposed” to. Fenris could hear everything that Danarius would say and exactly how he would say it as though he were there in the room with them and it filled him with such a blinding fury that he could feel his whole body going tense. A familiar ache strained at the base of his spine and across his shoulders as he hunched over, hiding his face from Garrett.

“You’re not disgusting,” Garrett said firmly.

Fenris snapped his gaze back up.

“And I know you don’t think I am either.”

Garrett slid his hand across the table, palm up, offering for Fenris to take it. Fenris didn’t want accepting the affectionate gesture to be hard, but he still hesitated before he did. He stared down at Garrett’s hand, the broad planes and creases mapped across it. His hesitation didn’t seem to bother Garrett who gave his hand a tight squeeze anyway when he finally took it. Garrett took his other hand and gently placed it overtop.

“You’re beautiful. There’s never too much or too little of you. Literally or you know, existentially.”

Fenris scoffed and tried to pull away, but Garrett didn’t let go.

“Fenris, I mean it.”  
  
“I know,” he said and _fuck_, when in his damn fucking life was he going to be able to say that without still tasting suspicion bleeding all over his damn words. He tightened his jaw and tried again. “I know.”

It didn’t really sound better, but Garrett, saint that he was, was happy with the effort. He let go and Fenris completely oscillated to the other side of how he felt about the touch and immediately wished that Garrett hadn’t let go. How was Garrett so _good_? Garrett had seen ugly things too, Fenris knew that. Maybe not the same as what he’d seen and not in the same extremity but the painful things in life hadn’t twisted Garrett into someone harsh. Fenris had seen people take any excuse to be cruel but Garrett never did.

Fenris took another sip of his coffee, trying to distract himself. The sharp taste countered the polluted feeling a little, biting at his sense.

Polluted. Disgusting. Weak. Fragile. Stupid. A stupid animal, only strong enough to pose the challenge of being tamed; _his_ little wolf.

If Fenris ever saw Danarius again, he wasn’t sure what he would do to the man. All that stolen time…

“Fenris,” Garrett interrupted his thoughts gently. “What would you like to do? Do you want to put all of this gaining stuff aside? For a little, or forever; either is okay.”

Fenris felt some of the tension ease off of him.

“I don’t want to stop,” he clarified. Partially for Garrett, but for himself as well. “But I don’t want to do any videos again. I’m not saying don’t make them at all, that’s up to you but—”

“Make them myself. Gotcha,” Garrett said. “I wanted to talk to you about that too actually. It was fun but…you approached it like work. And I don’t want any of this to feel like work.”

“Thank-you.”

“No problem…I’m enjoying it, obviously, but I don’t think I would as much without you. Which, also, I am so, so sorry for—”

Fenris raised a hand to stop him from going further.  
  
“What, for eating with me? Maybe I gained a bit of weight, but it wasn’t because of you so much as maybe for the first time in my life I’m eating consistent meals and not obsessively trying to calculate how many calories are in a homecooked meal or baked goods. I’m not ungrateful for the attention.”

Garrett smiled, warm and sweet. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm.

“I’m glad you feel relaxed enough around me to let some of that go.”

“I’m not sure this whole conversation says much for me letting go of it all.”

“Well, maybe not all of it. But you said it happened without you noticing. It’s because you were having fun with me and enjoying the time we were spending together, right?”

“…yes.”

_“Cute.”_

“I’m not,” Fenris snapped and immediately regretted it because of the smug look on Garrett’s face. Luckily, the man wasn’t in the mood to push his luck and let it slide.

There was probably more that they could talk about; how he felt about the weight, about if he wanted to make any plans to lose it. But he felt like they’d gotten through the important part of it. It’d come up again if it needed to. Really, Izzy was right in pointing out that maybe he just didn’t have the time right now between work. The thought of dragging himself through any more than his assigned stretches and exercises from the chiropractor for his back after he finished the day was daunting. Besides, he liked coming home and cooking with Garrett.

And if he were going to follow the rules, the kinds of rules Danarius would have made for him, they might extend these last couple of days of panic into something much worse. He didn’t want to model his life after the specifications Danarius had put on him for so long. A bit of weight was worth it if it meant not completely descending into the neurosis that he’d been so carefully conditioned into.

Besides, fuck it, he loved Garrett’s cooking. He didn’t even know that he could care so much about the attention and love that someone put into their food. Food before was simply a means to an end of which he had very little preference over but like with most things with Garrett, it was about the time they got to spend together around it.

“You know,” Garrett said wistfully, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m so glad our best friend is a sex therapist and world-renowned erotica novelist.”

Fenris scoffed. He tried not to look at how Garrett’s arms tucked in such a specific way over the pleasant curve of his stomach.

“No really, taking her writing course changed my life,” Garrett went on. “I wasn’t even out when you and I first met.”

“You were so young; did you even have a chance to have a reason to be out yet?”

“Hey now, I was only a virgin until I was twenty-two. Then we met when I was…twenty-three. That year in-between was worth at least five, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been with anyone. Just no one who I’d take home. _Maker,_ I basically treated sex that year like a part of my course load. I could write a whole paper on anal fingering alone.”

“Please do.”

“Be extremely careful of what you ask for.”

“I’ll grade it.”

“Oh, sweet Andraste; would you be into some hot for teacher roleplay? Not like, weird, but like—you could wear glasses. And a tie. And a sweater vest.”

“A sweater vest?” Fenris asked dubiously.

“Maybe I’m actually thinking of a sexy librarian.”

“We can figure this out later.”

“Excellent. Uhm, last thing; do you want me to scale back how much food we have around? Or maybe we shouldn’t make everything we do so food focused.”

Fenris tipped his head over to one side. Did he want anything else to change? He _had_ been enjoying himself. He told Izzy that he’d never been happier in his life and he hadn’t been exaggerating.

He resisted thumbing the waistband of his joggers. He’d been wearing them the last few days, putting off with dealing with his jeans situation by wearing the more comfortable and less distracting option. Earlier that day he’d poked and prodded at everything in the mirror for longer than he needed to catalogue what it looked like, but not long enough to figure out how he felt about it. He was just grateful he’d managed to do it without being compelled to bruise and punish himself for it in the process.

He shook his head.

“No. It’s not the weight itself that bothered me. It’s just…it’s always _him_. Whenever something changes, I can’t help but compare it to how things were. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Garrett assured. “I’m glad you took the time.”

Fenris nodded. There was a lot he wanted to say to express his gratitude for Garrett’s patience and kindness in waiting for him to sort his shit out, but he felt like he’d already said thank-you and sorry too much and he couldn’t stand to hear Garrett tell him it was okay or not his fault anymore. And it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t entirely stop him from feeling that it was. He wanted to let go of the things that made him feel that it was, but he knew that for him, talking too much about it would just make him feel like he was living it again. Funnily enough, a thing that he’d be advised _against _in therapy. Something about reliving trauma doing more to let it take over again rather than do anything to help manage its symptoms.

It was time to shift the focus.

“Uhm,” Fenris started but quickly lost his nerve. He looked away and tried again. “So…did you eat anything good the last couple of days?”

Garrett beamed across at him and it was almost too much to take in at full force.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett's always wanted to eat literally everything at the Hightown Christmas Market but he's just never had the capacity to do it.

“I think,” Fenris said, frowning at the distinctly incorrect flavor he’d just tasted. “That I’m actually just not good at this.”

“Oh, no, cakes are actually one of the hardest things to get the hang of,” Sebastian assured.

Fenris set down his fork. His last attempt he’d over mixed and the one before that he’d done the measurements wrong. This one wasn’t as bad, but it still wasn’t good.

“I have time tonight if you want to try again?” Sebastian offered.

Fenris shook his head.

“I appreciate it, but we made plans to go to the Christmas market in Hightown his mother.”

“That sounds lovely,” Sebastian said, smoothing a hand over the front of his apron. An apron which clearly highlighted the increasingly persistent belly that was accumulating around his middle. Fenris registered that it looked good on him, but it didn’t get him flustered the way it did with Garrett. It was just a change that had become enough to be notable and didn’t go further in his thoughts than that. What Fenris was more curious about was that it didn’t seem to bother the man.

Since they’d talked about it, Fenris had been paying a little more attention to what he’d been eating and in what quantity and it was as he’d thought; a combination of more consistent and dense meals and a more frequent eating in-between. It’d only been a couple weeks since then, and he’d had put on another three pounds which…he didn’t hate. He couldn’t really find it either, at least not in any significant way that it seemed to stick to either Garrett or Sebastian, but the numbers on the scale had no reason to deceive him so…he’d put on more weight.

Truthfully, he’d even let himself say yes to food a little more in some moderate effort to counteract letting himself overthink it as a negative thing. Which _was _still overthinking but didn’t seem to make him quite as anxious about it. He was trying not to be obsessive, but finding the right balance was difficult. There were two extreme options: the first being that he made rigorous efforts to lose the weight and the second being that he intentionally gained weight as quickly as possible to be the exact opposite of everything Danarius had ever insisted he be. A gradual or maintained middle seemed the best choice.

In the end, all that that all that thinking equated to was five pounds. He bought new jeans and made no real change in the trajectory that’d led him to needing them. Even if he had tried to change his diet to drop the weight it really would have been difficult this time of year. It wasn’t just Hawke who was eating more and more often, it was just the general mood. So, it was December first and for the first time in his life he weighed just over 165 pounds. That was thirteen pounds more than what he considered his average but then also, factoring in that he’d first lost four pounds before regaining them; that was _seventeen_ gained in less than two months.

If he had to think back on it which he didn’t have to, but he _did_ anyways, he could hardly think of much time of any day where he’d _actually_ felt hungry since Garrett had started showing up for lunch. Prior to that, he didn’t intentionally starve himself but focusing through hunger was something he’d been conditioned to. He wondered if part of why the actual numbers were so drastic was because for the first time in his memory he was actually answering the little ticks in his head telling him he was hungry and his body had gone into shock and was trying to take advantage at the unprecedented plenitude.

Whatever the cause, seventeen pounds was difficult for him to wrap his mind around.

Especially, with the difference being so negligible. Really, just the smallest of curve outwards instead of dipping in. The only spot that he really noticed, if he tried, was the lower part of his stomach, just beneath his belly button. There was the slightest bit to pinch. All it’d taken to be comfortable again was to go up one pant size. Maybe he hadn’t even really needed to do that, but he wasn’t used to his clothes having anything to pinch.

Still, he was well in the ‘skinny’ category, if he looked at everything objectively.

The more he thought about it, the more he did wonder what it would look and feel if that _wasn’t_ the case. A thought to revisit once he’d stopped overthinking. He still caught himself running the math through his head for drafting out meal plans and thinking of where he could slot extra time in the gym. There was hardly any time at all and this new project of his was taking precedence; Hawke’s birthday was in two weeks and he wanted to make him a cake.

Which apparently, he was really, _really_ not very good at.

“Thank-you for humouring me,” Fenris said, pulling off his own apron. They’d been baking in the centre’s kitchen with the idea that anything they made they could just put out for the various programs that were running but so far, he hadn’t made anything edible. Or, it wasn’t poisonous, but it wasn’t enjoyable either.

“Not at all, Fenris, I’d be baking anyways.”

“I just don’t understand how it’s…sour,” he said, frowning at the offending dessert again.

“I’m not sure that’s your fault, actually,” Sebastian said. “That vegan yogurt…I’m not sure I like that. I was hoping that it’d make it more moist but there’s just something odd about it. Maybe we should try a different brand.”

“Maybe I can convince Leandra to go back to just being vegetarian,” Fenris sighed.

“I’m sure we can sort it out. It’s nice to have a challenge for me anyways, I haven’t done much vegan baking. It’d be nice to have a few good recipes under my belt though. It’s more popular than ever with these kids it seems.”

“That and gluten-free.”

“And vegan gluten-free! I’ll work myself up to that.”

They quickly cleaned up the kitchen and regretfully discarded the cake into the compost.

“You’ll get it right in time for his birthday,” Sebastian assured, clapping Fenris across the shoulder. He didn’t know Sebastian very well, but after witnessing the initial disappointment in realizing that Fenris was taken, he quickly readjusted, for which Fenris was extremely grateful for. He liked Sebastian, despite how strongly Varric took the position that the man was boring. And perhaps he was, a bit, but Fenris liked the intensity he had about his job.  
  
Maybe it was his flaws that Varric found boring; that at best he was a little nosy and self-righteous. But something about the endless and increasingly festive baking softened out the edges of what Fenris would suppose he’d normally take a disliking to. Both literally and figuratively.

“I don’t even cook much,” Fenris said, frowning. “But I thought…it’d be a nice surprise because of that.”

“It’s very thoughtful. Does he do most of the cooking?”

“Yeah, I’ve never really gotten the hang of it. I’m not even sure I really made much distinction between good and bad food before I met him,” Fenris laughed. “But I want to make at least an adequate cake.”

“You will. Do you have time…next Monday after work?”

Though Fenris was sorely lacking in time he didn’t say so and they planned to continue the cake operation.

Truthfully, and Sebastian would never know this, he wanted to make two cakes. One to share at Leandra’s and then one for…a special birthday evening when they got home. Hawke’s birthday also marked the last day of work before the holidays at the university which didn’t mean that he didn’t have any work, but at least would be down to one very part-time job for a few weeks. He could have _multiple days off in a row_. After a solid two months of juggling both jobs it really drove home just how intensely he did not want to be in this situation, despite liking both jobs. And truthfully, the longer he spent at the resource centre, the more he realized that he actually might like it better. Sebastian and Josephine were easy to be around and they both knew Isabela. The only person he really spoke to on a regular basis at the university was that damned Pavus TA.

The closer Fenris got to the end of the contract, the more he felt a creeping disappointment that they couldn’t offer him a full-time position.

He was still thinking about it by time he made it to the winter market. He had to keep pulling off his gloves to use his phone and eyes the battery suspiciously as it seemed to be draining faster in the cold temperature.

Garrett: _Sorry, b there in 5, mum couldn’t find her bag.  
  
_Garrett: _And then insisted on driving.  
  
_Garrett:_ So maybe we’ll actually be there in a decade?  
  
_Fenris frowned but wasn’t really bothered. With the roads as icy as they were, he preferred that they go slower. He waited near the gate, hands stuffed in his pockets and muffler pulled up over his nose. He’d never really gotten used to the cold in Kirkwall. It never got that cold in Minrathous, but the cold in Kirkwall had and additionally unpleasant perpetual wetness to it.

At least Garrett was correct in his eta and five minutes later, he spotted him and Leandra approaching. Though, he recognized Leandra first.

Garrett, though not eating as intensely as he had been leading up Hallowe’en had easily put on another ten or so pounds since then. Maybe more, Fenris realized as he watched his approach and noting that Garrett’s jacket was likely open because he _couldn’t comfortably close it_. They hadn’t weighed him in a while; Garrett said it was more exciting when the number went up significantly rather going along fractions of pounds at a time. But if Fenris had to guess, he’d likely reached an extra fifty pounds since they’d started their relationship. And what fifty pounds looked like was nothing short of _glorious_.

His belly still persisted in holding its poised position above his belts, refusing to fall over and crease. Tonight Garrett had covered it over with a large sweater. Despite its size it obscured none of the significant swelling underneath, which made Fenris bite at his lip; Hawke was getting thick enough that there wasn’t any clothing that hid his size anymore. He was just _big_. His belly made a little hop when he walked, which was difficult for Fenris to take his eyes off of, but worth it to drop his gaze lower and evaluate Garrett’s thighs. He was wearing the jeans they’d bought the month before and even at a distance it was clear to see that he’d already more than filled them out. His thighs looked fucking _thick_, and they were nearly touching, Fenris realized. Even the way he walked looked a little different. Not lumbering, exactly, but certainly more gamely as he had to move the extra weight.

He looked good. He looked more than good; he looked fucking hot. It wasn’t just that he was big it was that he looked at ease and comfortable. While Fenris was grappling with what was probably just edging more towards a BMI chart oriented “healthy” weight, Hawke seemed so profoundly unconcerned with the numbers and how they settled over him. He met every change with an amused curiosity.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, dear,” Leandra said. “Don’t want to take any chances out there.”

“I haven’t been here that long,” Fenris assured.

He tugged at the bottom of the sweater Garrett was wearing, realizing that though he didn’t recognize it, it didn’t seem like something that’d been purchased recently either with it’s stretched collar and evident repairs.

“This doesn’t look new?” he noted quietly as they hugged.

Garrett shifted back and Fenris was surprised to find him wearing an expression of uncertainty that he so rarely saw.

“Ah, well…it was my father’s,” he said.

Before Fenris could ask anything, Leandra was pulling him into a hug and then eagerly pulling them both towards the ticket gate.

The Christmas market in Hightown was not something that Fenris had every been especially drawn towards and therefore had never bothered to investigate. However, Garrett and his mother had been going every year since they could afford it and this year Leandra had made special note to invite him into the tradition. He wasn’t much for the holidays, but he also wasn’t going to turn down any opportunities to remain in Leandra’s good graces. Garrett insisted that he was well past the stage of having to convince Leandra that he wasn’t some ruffian out to break her son’s heart, but he wasn’t about to take any risks in the matter.

“How was work today, Fenris?” Leandra asked brightly, hooking her arm in with him. Garrett had already been distracted by a booth of Christmas ornaments. Leandra was looking for a map of the booths. There were some vegan vendors she was especially interested in.

“Which work?” he asked.

“Oh, which ever one you preferred,” she replied.

“It was good. There’s no way I’ll be able to go through everything before the end of my contract, but I think I’ve gotten further on things than they expected,” he said.

“Do you think they’ll try to keep you a bit longer?”

Fenris blinked.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said truthfully. “I don’t know if I could keep up the pace I’ve been at though even if they did.”

“It’s a shame. The more Garrett tells me about the centre the more it seems like such a wonderful place to work. If there’s anything else I can help with for their holiday dinner, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Garrett rounded back to them, a vendor map in hand. Fenris let the two of them pour over it as he looked around the crowded market. Nothing looked real, like it was all just a part of a movie set perhaps; overly ostentatious and saturated in the extreme. There were people working as elves with large gawky felt ears on the sides of their heads and carolers belting out songs overtop of the music already playing over the speakers perched up over the candy cane poles. It was the kind of place that was so manufactured that it immediately made him feel like he was detaching from reality. But watching Garrett and Leandra try to figure out the right way to a vegan fudge stall while dodging the crowd was…heartwarming. Through the years he’d had the uncomfortable experience of witnessing some of their more heated discussions so seeing them surrender to the delirium of Christmas, however manufactured, let him relax into the place a little easier.

Garrett didn’t seem entirely mentally present though he noted, watching him fidget with the hem of his father’s sweater. He’d never actually seen a photo of Garrett’s father; most of the photographs had been lost in their hasty move from Lothering to Kirkwall. All he knew about Malcolm Hawke was how often Leandra and the twins remarked upon how much he and Garrett looked alike. It hadn’t occurred to him that Malcolm might have been a large man; Garrett certainly didn’t fit the sweater. Close, but there was enough room to say that in its present state, it was comfortably oversized.

Fenris smothered any further train of though of Garrett starting to look snug in the sweater, reminding himself again that he was here not just with Garrett but Garrett’s _mother_.

“Fenris, try this,” Garrett said, holding up a toothpick with a piece of fudge on it. “It’s weird.”

“Why would I want it if it’s weird,” Fenris asked, eyeing the fudge suspiciously. It didn’t look weird.

“So, you can tell me if you think it’s weird because it’s weird or if it’s weird because it’s vegan,” Garrett said, inching the toothpick forward in what was perhaps supposed to be an enticing gesture. Fenris plucked it out of his fingers instead of letting Garrett feed it to him and ignored the put-out look that got him.

“Why does it have rosemary?” he asked nearly immediately.

“Isn’t it just lovely with the orange flavor?” Leandra asked.

Fenris couldn’t decide if he had an answer for that and was luckily handed another sample. Although the next one had lavender. By time he was given the third sample, something with chili he just shook his head.

“I don’t know…I’m really not a big fan of fudge.”

“Then what is your least favourite, so we at least don’t end up with it in our stockings,” Garrett asked.

“Our stockings?”

“Ah, mum’s doing one for you too.”

“She doesn’t—”

“It’s decided!” Leandra cut in cheerfully. “You’re a part of this family. Isabela too.”

“Isabela would like the chili one,” Fenris said, at least relieved that he wouldn’t be the only addition to the Hawke family Christmas. With his answer, both he and Garrett were shooed away from the stall to maintain some illusion of surprise.

“What should I get for your mother?” Fenris asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Garrett sighed. “Should we get her something together? If that’s…not too couple-y?”

Fenris bit his lip; they _were_ a couple but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to do couples gifts. Then again, if they pooled their resources maybe it’d help in picking something for her.

“Uhm…let’s see if there’s anything she points out tonight that she wouldn’t buy for herself,” he said diplomatically. Garrett pulled him in close to his side and kissed him on the side of the head.

“Good thinking.”

Fenris put his arm across Garrett’s lower back and leaned into him.

“You are so warm,” he said enviously.

“Are you cold?” Garrett asked, clearly taking the comment as a reason to be worried.

“I’m alright,” Fenris assured. “They have heat lamps all over. You’re just especially warm.”

“Full bear mode.”

Fenris wanted to say something teasing in response but Leandra had already made their way back to them, looking between them warmly. She didn’t say anything and looked back and forth between them, beaming. Fenris was about to pull away from Garrett when she raised her hands and waved for him to stop.

“Let me take a picture,” she said. Fenris stiffened, but Leandra went on. “Your first Christmas together.”

“Oh mum—” Garrett started. “I mean, technically we’ve spent a couple Christmases together—”

“But not as a couple,” Leandra protested.

Garrett was starting to pull away and Fenris knew he was doing it because he knew that he didn’t just hate being on camera for sex-related anything and his aversion to photos and videos went much further than that. Since he’d quit camming, he had no social media accounts to speak of, not even face book. He didn’t want to make any entry points for Danarius to speak to him or find where he was. But then he thought about how the photos the family had lost in leaving Ferelden.

“No Garrett, it’s okay. Let’s take a picture,” he said, moving back in against him. “Just…can we get it printed instead of putting it online?”

“Absolutely, love,” Leandra assured. “I just want to make sure two of you have something to remember this by.”

He could feel Garrett looking at him and he didn’t have to look to know see that he was likely worried. He ignored it and focused on keeping his expression from just looking like a scowl. When it seemed like Garrett was still hesitating to settle back in with him, he squeezed at the now sizable love handle which immediately caused Garrett to hop in against him.

“_Mean_,” Garrett hissed. But he didn’t try to stop Leandra again. It took her a couple tries to figure out which of the two cameras she was supposed to use on the phone and then another try to get it in focus, but in the end she had taken a perfectly charming photo of the two of them. He peered down on the screen and was surprised to find that even though he wasn’t grinning or exuding the most radiant energy that his smile looked…genuinely content, tucked in underneath the arm of his large, soft boyfriend. The dark sweater masked the true girth of Garrett’s belly in the photo, but the way his too small jacket bracketed it gave it away.

“You look so tiny next to me,” Garrett said, sounding a bit bewildered after Leandra had put away her phone and was leading the way to her next stop.

“You’ve got at least fifty pounds on me,” Fenris said, appreciatively smoothing his hand over the outward curve of Garrett’s belly. Another thing that had changed since Garrett had started gaining was that Fenris knew that he had gone from being extremely awkward about PDA to being nearly incapable of keeping his hands off the man regardless of where they were.

“Oh…I think a little more than that, now.”

“It looks good.”

“I agree,” Garrett said, nuzzling in on Fenris’s throat. At that, Fenris did extract himself both because it was a little too much for his tastes but also because it was ticklish. Garrett’s hand trailed after his retreat but Fenris quickly put himself up beside Leandra. He gave a backwards glance and smirked at Hawke. _Later_, he mouthed. Garrett made a show of pouting but was unconvincing.

After they’d stopped at a vegan dog treat booth and bought a few ornaments in the shape of pin-up girls for Isabela they worked their way over to the food stalls. Leandra knew exactly where she wanted to go, having scoured the festivals web page for which stalls had vegan options before coming but Garrett and Fenris had to take a quick walk through before making a choice. Everything smelled drowned in grease and sugar and Fenris tried not to bristle too much at it. He had to keep reframing things in his head; if his weight was of no consequence, what would he choose to eat?

The answer tonight was a spicy Rivaini dish of noodles and beef in a thick broth. The portion was considerably larger than he thought it would be, but as he started eating, he was grateful for the way the spice of the dish was heating him from the inside out.

Garrett had ordered some variety of steamed dumplings that was modest on its own, but he fully had the intention to go through several more stalls and try the food from each of them. Leandra had told them to make themselves scarce for a while after she’d finished her dinner as she went back to revisit some stalls that she’d spotted some secret things at, leaving Garrett time to continue sampling from the various offerings. Fenris quickly lost track of how many lines they’d been through; Garrett quickly developed a method of ordering something from one both and then eating it while waiting in queue for the next, belly rounding out a little further with each stop. Each time they joined a new line, Fenris had to tried not to think too much about how hot he found it that even when it was getting clearer and clearer that Hawke was further past full that he was still standing in front of another menu and contemplatively rubbing at the bottom of his belly as he tried to make his next selection. The sweater was generous enough that it still covered him entirely, but it was clear that Hawke was determined to get to his fullest capacity.

“The noodle dish looks good,” Fenris said, pointing up at the sign.

“I can’t decide between that and the pulled pork sandwich over there,” he said, frowning.

“Get both,” Fenris said, voice low. He watched, a curl of pleasure moving up through him as he noted how Garrett’s hand paused and he straightened a little. “And then we can go get that custard thing you were looking at earlier.”

“I’ve never been able to eat this much at the market, but I’ve always wanted to,” Garrett said wistfully. Fenris quickly put a block up on thinking too much about how that meant that Garrett had not just fattened up since the year previous but that his stomach had now become well-accustomed to being pushed to extremes. Still, he didn’t really need to think much for his body to respond with a slow unfurling of heat.  
  
They waited in separate lines to expedite the process; Fenris didn’t want to completely miss out on seeing if there was anything that they could get for Leandra. But he was also extremely interested in seeing just how much Garrett could get in the increased capacity of his belly. So much so that while he was ordering the noodles for him, he ordered a side of the pan-fried dumplings as well.

Unfortunately, Garrett had the same idea and came back with both a sandwich and a roasted sweet potato. Garrett looked between all the options and looked genuinely concerned.

“Ah…right. Not that I don’t want to eat all of this as I am sure it is most certainly worth the effort but…” Garrett said, shifting his feet.

“Save the sandwich for later and I’ll eat the sweet potato,” Fenris said, tipping the dumplings onto the noodle dish and reaching over to swap with Garrett. He knew that he was taking the item with the most modest calorie count and if Garrett also realized that he didn’t say anything. He did take a bite of it first though before handing it over. Fenris frowned but took it anyways, and the tucked the sandwich into his backpack as well.

They went in search of Leandra once again and found her fussing between some tea blends for Bethany. She had a few more bags with her, which Fenris got her to put all into one and carried for her. Garrett accused him of being a suck-up, but didn’t offer to carry the bags as he was still working through the noodles and dumplings. Fenris peeked at Garrett’s belly, wondering just how much or how little room he had left. His pace had slowed considerably and he seemed a bit more out of breath than he should have been for their leisurely pace.

Fenris took a deep breath of the cold air, hoping that it would be sobering. It was, expect it drew attention to just how tight his own stomach was feeling. He was nearly finished with the roasted sweet potato but atop the dish he’d already eaten it was pushing the limits of his own capacity.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. Or, it was but in a way that felt warm and hazy. Garrett said that he liked the way being stuffed made him feel so much more conscious of his body and he thought he understood. It was hard not to hunch over around the sensation but Fenris felt self-conscious about straightening out partially because it did make his stomach poke out a little more than he was used to seeing but also because it drew attention to how it felt to have that part of his body feeling so overworked.

He tried not to think on it too much, diverting his attention back to Leandra and seeing if there was anything that caught her eye. Shopping for Leandra was notoriously difficult; she was at the age where she had everything she could possibly need and after her last big clean-out seemed resistant to accumulating any more than necessary. Bethany got her flowers each year and Carver took her out for dinner. Last year, Fenris had given her a photo he’d found in an old newspaper of herself from before she’d moved to Lothering with Malcolm. That was probably when he’d won Leandra over for good.

Thankfully, opportunity arose; they were passing a stall that didn’t seem to be selling much in the way of wares but instead were selling ticket packages for the local opera. Fenris had no idea that Leandra was even remotely interested and apparently neither did Garrett and they both listened intently to her as she went on about which exact opera’s she’d always wished to see but could never justify buying tickets for.

Eventually, she ran out of steam and asked if they wanted rides home, but Garrett quickly lied and said that they were meeting some friends nearby for a drink. She collected her bags and bid them a good night and once she was securely out of earshot, they started discussing what package they should buy for her.

“Couples gift then?” Garrett asked, cheeks looking rosy in the cold.

“…yes.”

They settled on a three-show season package for two tickets each, deciding they would alternate in accompanying her. They couldn’t spring for anything ludicrously close to the stage, but the salesperson cheerfully noted that it wasn’t worth going to if the performers couldn’t fill the room with their voices anyways then assured that they could. And, when compared to the full prices of the tickets, they felt appropriately secure in their purchase.

Fenris crumped the wrapper of the roasted sweet potato and tossed it in the bin and while feeling well more than full, didn’t really feel any dread over the fact. It’d been a pleasant evening. Looking to Garrett he could see that the man was positively gorged to the point where he did look rather uncomfortable. He’d noted him fussing over the waistband of his jeans while they were selecting the shows for the package but couldn’t see exactly the reason why.

“I feel like I’m going to pop out of these,” Garrett said lowly. Fenris wanted to reach beneath the hem of the sweater and see what state Garrett was in with his waistband but refrained. Besides, he could guess. If they’d been at home Garrett would have just unbuttoned whatever he was wearing by now and his belly would have happily plopped forwards.

“Hm, it did look like you had a hard time getting into them this morning,” Fenris noted.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get into them again after this.”

_That_ went straight down to Fenris’ dick is a most distressing way. Instead of responding he hummed a noncommittal reply, feigning disinterest as he walked towards a booth selling some handmade ceramics. He took great pains in redirecting his own attention, knowing full well what pains Garrett was suffering under the longer he took. He did end up purchasing a mug for Sebastian as thanks for his help.

“Should we go back to yours?” he asked as they waited for it to be wrapped.

“Oh Maker, please,” Garrett said, smoothing his palm over the outmost crest of his belly. Seeing just how far it jutted out Fenris’ felt his thoughts blank out as he frantically tried to run through the entire gamut of what he’d seen Garrett eat throughout the night.

But there was still one last thing.

“You can’t be serious,” Garrett said, realizing that they’d stopped in the end of the line for the custard tarts he’d been eyeing earlier in the night.

“I thought you wanted to try them,” Fenris said. Maybe if he were of a more tempered nature it could have come off as innocent, but the indifference was anything but. “The black sesame one looks interesting.”

Garrett peeked around the line at the display. Indeed, they did have a lot of flavours and conveniently offered dozen and half-dozen packages to encourage that you try them all.

“Okay, but I can’t eat them here,” Garrett said. “I really will burst out of my damned pants, Fenris.”

“When we get home you can prove it,” Fenris said lightly. “You still have the sandwich, don’t forget.”

Garrett groaned, but didn’t say that he _wouldn’t_ go out of his way to prove it either. They ordered the half-dozen but with the market nearly ready to close, the vendor threw in at least four extra and said they could make it up to him by coming to the storefront grand-opening in the new year.

Fenris looked up a car-to-go situation on his phone and the battery thankfully lasted long enough for them to get to it. They could have taken a bus, but he didn’t want to put Garrett through the jostling stop-and-go of the busses. Once inside he looked over the vehicle interior and adjusted the seat before opening it up for Garrett and then paused when he realized how much the small car sunk before springing back up with the impact of Garrett’s weight settling in.

But that wasn’t all. Looking over as Garrett adjusted himself, he realized that Garrett was bloated enough that his belly was resting on his thighs ever so slightly. Unable to resist, Fenris reached over and gently pushed the sweater up and over the gorgeous, generous curve. He noted the way that the shirt underneath was caught tight around the globular mass with a thin strip of underbelly exposed. He traced a finger along the exposed skin and Garrett let out a little moan. Reverently, Fenris responded with rubbing a gentle circle over the tightest, outmost part of his overtaxed gut.  
  
Garrett squirmed beneath the touch, either trying to get comfortable or trying to restrain himself so that they didn’t end up getting carried away in a car to go. Even so, Fenris couldn’t help but let his hand drop below to the softer part of his belly, feeling the way he had to wedge his fingers in-between his gut and thighs a little. Gripping and hefting the soft pudge of his underbelly up softly, Fenris leaned over and pressed a kiss on Garrett’s cheek.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “And you can show me just how close to bursting out of these you are.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspected stuffed smutty pleasures; the likely title of Isabela's next erotica novel if she ever catches wind of this.
> 
> This chapter is mostly just sex.

Fenris nudged Garrett through the door from behind and while he was trying to be delicate about it, hadn’t accounted for the dog to come bounding over and jump up on his overfed boyfriend. Garrett bent over sharply, trying to push the dog off but mostly grimaced.

“No, no, no, no,” he said quickly, trying to edge around him. Fenris interceded, the great Mabari resting his enormous paws on his chest and letting out a gleeful bark.

“Hello, Dog,” Fenris said, taking the beast’s paws into his hands and urging him back down onto all fours. Dog had been at Leandra’s for the previous few weeks after a break-in scare in the neighbourhood but was now firmly, and loudly, planted back at Garrett’s. “Come on, let’s get you some food too.”

Dog trotted happily towards the kitchen as Fenris toed his shoes off. He patted Garrett on the belly.

“You go lay down.”

Garrett moaned lamentingly but complied after carefully getting his shoes and jacket off. Fenris’ gaze lingered after him because shit, he was getting wide. From behind his love handles were distractedly evident in the too small shirt that clung to them and oozed out over the sides of his waistband. His ass looked plump and strained the seat of his jeans and his thighs looked like they’d been stuffed into the denim like sausage casing. Garrett moved gingerly, hands cradling his stomach.

Dog butted his head behind Fenris’ knees and he quickly brought his attention back to the first of the tasks at hand. He let himself be hustled into the kitchen by the large creature and dug out the homemade raw meal that Hawke had made for him from the fridge. Sometimes Fenris couldn’t fathom how Garrett had accidentally named the Mabari “Dog” after taking too long to decide on a name but went through such pains to ensure that he was eating such a high-grade diet.

Once Dog had been taken care of, he went to take the tarts and sandwich out of his backpack. Looking at the food, it wasn’t a small amount but he definitely…wanted to see Hawke eat it. They’d bought those jeans so recently, but he was already bursting out of them. Fenris had been trying not to think about seeing him actually pop the button all night and instead of wondering if Hawke could indeed polish off the food, he was wondering if it would be enough and if Garrett would be willing to indulge him. Despite how much Garrett did seem to enjoy being so overstuffed, he had refocused his energy towards always being comfortably full instead of entirely incapacitated.

Whatever Garrett wanted tonight, Fenris knew that he’d prefer the sandwich warm. He pulled out a pan and turned on the oven to warm it up again.

As he waited for the sandwich to reheat he went into the bedroom to check on Garrett.

Garrett was sprawled back, hands rubbing his stretched gut. Fenris wasn’t sure, but it didn’t seem like he’d undone the button which was_ interesting_. He went over and laid himself between Garrett’s legs, hands laid over his chunky thighs, fingertips picking at the edge of his waistband.

“You haven’t undone your jeans,” Fenris said. Garrett shifted beneath him, swaying his thick gut in front of Fenris’ face.

“Nope,” Garrett said, glancing down and smirking. “And I have a sandwich and nearly a dozen tarts left.”

Fenris idly traced his fingers along the exposed skin between where Garrett’s shirt had ridden up and his jeans. It was more than a sliver, though only because Garrett had been trying to work out the cramps by rubbing his belly. The hem of the shirt caught over the outermost jut of his belly. The exposed skin was soft and covered with scattered stretchmarks. Some of the first ones had already started to fade, but new ones looked red and irritated. He drew his finger along one and felt Garrett shudder underneath the touch. Pulling himself up further, Fenris put his mouth over the spot and sucked at it gently. Reaching up to Garrett’s crotch he palmed at his dick. It was already half-hard.

“Fuck, Fenris,” Garrett gasped. “Pause, pause, pause.”

Fenris pulled back and waited, watching as Garrett tried to regain control, taking in as deep of breaths that he could manage. Once he’d regained his composure, Garrett tried to sit himself up better.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he started. “But…okay, for practicality’s sake we need to decide how we want this to go first before I get too caught up.”

Fenris hummed, rubbing his palms up Garrett’s thighs thoughtfully.

“I’m heating up that sandwich for you,” Fenris said. “And then there are the tarts; you don’t have to eat them all but if you’re willing, I want to see you pop this button.”

He wiggled his fingers underneath Garrett’s belly and tried to get his fingers in the waistband of his jeans to get an idea of how strained the button was.

“Yeah?” Garrett asked. “I’m not sure that I can. Do you really think I’m that fat already?”

Fenris rested his chin in one hand and used the other to carefully explore the perimeters of Garrett’s gut, running an open palm along with the grain of hair that had gotten denser as Garrett had continued to pile on the pounds. He grabbed at the bottom of his belly and found plenty to fill his hand.

“Yeah, Garrett,” he said lowly. “I think you’re that fat already.”

“I have been a bit piggish lately. It’s not just my gut, my arse is getting so fucking wide; every time I sit I’m just half expecting to hear a tear.”

Fenris bit back a whine and quickly got up off the bed.

“I don’t want to burn your food,” he said, leaving promptly before just the idea of Hawke bursting through his jeans got him too hard to properly think. He got the sandwich on a plate and grabbed the tarts as well; he hoped that it would be enough. Hawke seemed tight already but if there was anything that he’d learned about Garrett’s gluttony it was not to underestimate it.

“Maker that smells delicious,” Hawke said brightly as Fenris returned. Fenris scoffed; the sincerity of his enthusiasm for good food was too wholesome to come anywhere near being sexy. Which, was perhaps for the better as the sandwich with it’s rich, dripping sauce seemed like something that Hawke would prefer to eat carefully and on his own. Fenris handed him the plate and Garrett settled in happily, as though his belly weren’t already dangerously packed with food already.

“Can you rub my belly for me while I eat?” Garrett asked innocently. Fenris tried not to laugh and ducked his head as he nodded. He stripped down to his underwear and ignored the wondering thought about whether or not Garrett noticed that he was still quite full himself and laid beside him. He propped himself up on one elbow so that he could fulfill the request comfortably.

Garrett seemed to have gotten a second wind and made his way through the sandwich quickly, making small satisfied sounds as he worked through it. As he got closer to finishing, his breathing was starting to sound short again and he was looking a bit flushed, but he powered on through. Fenris paused from his assigned task only to put on some music; one thing he just could not get past with this was the sound of chewing.

But, without having to be distracted too much by that, he was able to spend his time fully appreciating the substantial girth that Garrett had added to his body. Right now, he was especially engorged but even when he wasn’t stuffed there was no denying that he’d gotten soft. He couldn’t suck it in anymore, always a stubborn flabbiness still resolutely making itself known in the way his shirts puckered and clung around him. He pushed the shirt up, rucking it up underneath his puffed-out pecs at the top of his belly.

“Oh, putting it like that makes me look so huge,” Garrett said between bites. He was nearly finished and desperately trying not to drip any sauce. Despite the gluttony that his bulging potbelly suggested, Hawke was an especially tidy eater even with the messiest of foods. Fenris patted the top of his stomach affectionately.

“You are huge.”

Garrett made a dismissive noise.

“Hardly,” he said. It wasn’t defensive, Fenris realized. Garrett still didn’t think of himself as being all that large. “I feel like I should be bigger with all this eating I’ve been doing.”

“It’s not a race,” Fenris assured.

“I know. And I do feel it, but it’s…I keep feeling surprised that it doesn’t feel like more, you know? I guess I just thought it’d be harder. Mostly it’s just wobblier.”

Fenris gave a small, tentative shake.

“It is.”

Garrett lazily swatted his hand away, too full to be able to take much jostling. He used his other hand to push the last of the sandwich in his mouth then started to get up.

“Need to wash my hands,” he said. Fenris nodded and watched as Garrett carefully moved himself back over to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over carefully and standing. As he turned to walk towards the washroom Fenris got a good profile look at felt his brain go to static for a moment as he tried to imagine what Garrett_ would_ consider big. Of course, he probably meant big in the sense of even when his stomach was empty, but right now his stomach looked painfully bowed out. Fenris could see the start of a crease that bespoke of the promise of Garrett’s belly being large enough to crease and fold over itself.

He went stiff as he realized that while examining his boyfriends expanding girth, he’d been palming at his own bowed out stomach. While he had the moment of privacy, he felt a bit braver in examining that and pressed his fingers in. He couldn’t really feel the extra weight on his own body the way he imagined that Garrett must at this point but pressing his fingers in he could feel the layer of fat building over his torso. Maybe if he’d been drunk he might have been able to dismiss the thought, but instead it settled soft and sober in his thoughts that…he did want to know what it felt like touch and feel more. For it to be easy to find the extra flesh just starting to accumulate around his own body instead of anxiously searching it out as though it were something to be starved out or cut away.

Still, even as he thought this, he wasn’t sure that he had the courage to jump in and intentionally gain the weight. Right now, no one gave him a second look because there really wasn’t anything to notice if he was dressed. Even like this, he knew that Hawke had trouble really seeing it. Garrett was disarming and he could see that if anyone commented on the change in his physique that he was more than prepared to deflect or accept it and not think much of it. Fenris wasn’t sure that he’d be able to take it so graciously. He’d looked one specific way for so long that the idea of changing that image…it made his heart beat faster.

Except, it made his heart beat faster for more reasons than one.

_Venhedis_, he thought witheringly, turning his face and burrowing it in a pillow. He didn’t have long to think on it though before Hawke had returned to the room. He sat back up, surveying his boyfriend. He looked just as delectable from the front. The way his jeans were pushed as low as they could be only emphasized the sheer roundness of his belly, burgeoning out proudly like the prow of a ship. The amount of food that he’d eaten tonight was truly unholy. Hawke arched his back, stretching and it pushed everything forward and he looked enormous.

“Sweet Andraste, I don’t know if I can fit more in,” he said, palming his belly again. Fenris waited a beat to hear if that was a signal to stop, but when Hawke didn’t go on or say his safe word and instead popped open the box of tarts, Fenris got up, moving close. One his knees on the bed he set both hands on Hawke’s bulging love handles and squeezed.

“Let me feed you.”

“I think I have room for a few,” Garrett said, looking down at the tray thoughtfully. Just under a dozen palm sized tarts looked perfect in their box, laid carefully out.

“All of them,” Fenris said.

“Do you think I can?” Garrett asked.

“It sounds like you know that you can.”

Fenris picked one out, feigning some process of selection like Hawke wasn’t just about to eat the entire box.

“I want to see you blow the button off of these jeans,” he said, pressing the first of the tarts against Hawke’s lips.

“Yeah?” Hawke asked before biting into it.

“How many do you think it’ll take?”

Between them, Hawke rubbed his hand pensively up and down over the tight curve of his belly as though trying to feel out how much room he had left.

“Probably not all of them,” he said, sounding honest. “I’m so close already, Fenris.”

He punctuated the sentence by bumping his gut into Fenris’.

“Do you want to sit?” Fenris asked.

“Oh god no. I think I need to stand for a while. I can’t believe how much I ate.”

“You did good. Now stop talking so I can get these in you.”

Garrett acquiesced by taking another large bite of the tart. At about three mouthfuls each and with how full he was already feeling, Fenris thought that maybe Garrett was right about not needing to eat the whole box to pop the button.

Fenris got up off the bed, his knees starting to feel sore from his perched position. With Garrett being so tall, the easiest thing was to stand with him and as he got him working through the tarts they were shuffling back and forth, Garrett’s thick gut in-between bumping and brushing against him. It was hard not to forget about the absurd goal that they had from this whole endeavor and just give him and start rutting against him.

Midway through the fifth tart, Garrett pushed him back slightly. He looked like he was trying to compose himself but was struggling.

“You okay?” Fenris asked.

Garrett gave an unconvincing tight nod.

“I’m going to finish this one,” he said, taking the tart from Fenris.

“You don’t have to,” Fenris replied quickly.

“It’s so good,” Garrett said and sounding as though the thought of not finishing pained him greatly. He was resting a palm on the bulging shelf of his belly and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “I’m just so full. But you want to actually see this, right?”

_“Yes.”  
  
_“Right. Sit down, relax,” Garrett said, throwing a wry smile. Fenris returned it and sat, laying back and leaning on his elbows.

“Continue,” Fenris said, jerking his chin towards the last of the tart.

“Eager.”

“I just want to see if you can actually do it.”

Garrett rolled his eyes but took another bite. He was so full that he looked a bit ill. But as ever, he was determined to follow through on his word. And anyways, Fenris thought as he eyed the straining front of Garrett’s jeans, he didn’t seem far from fulfilling his promise. The button looked as though it were barely hanging on. Fenris palmed his own dick, giving a slow careful stroke, more to gauge how close he was rather than to start jerking off. That got Garrett’s attention though and he quickly swallowed the last of the tart.

The jeans were new, but Garrett’s rate of expansion since having purchased them had done the material no favours. Somehow, beyond all comprehension, Garrett got nearly two more tarts in, anxiously rubbing his belly as he forced more down. It was nearing the end of the last one that the button finally burst.

Both he and Fenris startled at the sudden break. Garrett’s belly immediately fell, pushing the zipper open as his thick gut pushed out and forwards. Once Fenris had regathered his wits he was on his feet, crowding in against Garrett, hands resting on the sides of his widening belly and kissing him hungrily. He tasted like blueberry and whip cream.

“Holy fuck, babe,” Fenris said, breathlessly. “You’re turning into such a hog.”

Garrett moaned, arching into Fenris, each breath short as he struggled to breath. Fenris stroked a hand over the front of him, palming down the huge curve of his gut. He tried to be gentle and hold back but as he worked his fingers into what remained of Garrett’s busted jeans he felt the heat rise up hot in him.

“Let me fuck you,” he growled.

“Thought…you’d never ask,” Garrett huffed and started pulling his shirt off. It’s already hiked up around to his belly button and Fenris thought about telling him to keep it on. He loved seeing Garrett stuffed into clothes that clearly didn’t fit anymore. But more than seeing how his wardrobe was losing the battle against his bulging gut, Fenris wanted to feel the hot, tight skin against his own strained little belly. He bit lightly on Garrett’s lip; trying to quash down the thought that he wanted Garrett to feed _him_ the last of the damned bougie as shit tarts. Fenris knew that he could fit more into his own stomach just as much as he knew that he liked feeling the way the tightness made everything feel so much more intense.

But Garrett had done such an incredible job; he needed to make sure that he got what he needed. Between them, he could feel Garrett’s thick cock hot and leaking. He worked, with difficultly, Garrett’s pants down with his underwear, letting his dick spring free up between them. Fenris felt half-feral, wanting to claw his way up the taller man. Instead he took a deep breath and pushed him back gently and took his jeans all the way off.

Laid out before him undressed, Garrett was beautiful. His thighs were nothing short of glorious and his hips looked wide and inviting. His belly, so stuffed, looked incomprehensibly large as it jutted out forcibly in front of him. Fenris pulled his own shirt and jeans off quickly and got onto the bed over him, hovering over top for a moment, arms braced on either side of the large man.

“You going to be okay? You look like you’re about to burst.”

“Remember how I said that barfing during sex wasn’t my thing? I swear I’d tell if I thought that would happen,” Garrett said reassuring, reaching behind Fenris to cup his ass and coax him forward. Fenris didn’t need more encouragement than that and slowly pressed himself against Garrett. When it seemed that he really wasn’t about to vomit, he let himself a moment to bracket the overtaxed gut between his hands. All across the top was taut and immovable, but as his hands drifted down he found some of the softness and gave a it a coaxing squeeze. Garrett arched up into his touch, groaning.

“Oh please, don’t tease,” he said.

“I’m not teasing, I’m evaluating,” Fenris said, tracing the tip of a finger underneath, pressing into the deepening crease of where Hawke was going to have an overhang in only a matter of days if his appetite had anything to say about it.

“You’re _torturing_ me,” Garrett said. Fenris was unconvinced or hand little sympathy.

“It only seems fair after forcing me watch you stuff yourself for hours on end in front of your mother when I can’t do a damned thing about it,” he reasoned.

“Oh, please, don’t bring up my mother right now.”

Fenris reached up to Garrett’s puffy pec and gave an affirming squeeze, earning him another winning moan. He let his hand drift over Garrett’s thick, hairy thighs, contemplating the best approach. He wanted to be facing Garrett when he fucked him but wasn’t sure if that would be the most comfortable position for him. Momentarily Fenris felt his mind blank, realizing he had no real frame of reference to really consider how Garrett felt as bloated as he was.

Well, he had some idea from the blown out pupils and relaxed lines of his body. Fenris decided to proceed as planned and carefully positioned Garrett’s legs around him. This time the teasing was fully intended as he raked his nails down Garrett’s thighs and let them dicks press hard into one another, wedging up in between one another at Garrett’s burgeoning belly. His stomach felt so hot in-between them as it worked to digest everything Garrett had so eagerly thrown down his gullet.

But instead of carefully reaching over for the lube on the side table, Fenris took up the open container of tarts. There were three left. He smirked at the look of sheer panic on Garrett’s face.

“Surely you don’t think I can actually finish that,” Garrett said, reaching around his belly protectively.

Fenris plucked one up, examining it. It was some type of lemon thing with a red swirl in it.

“Are you really at your limit? You seemed to really enjoy them.”

“Because they’re stupid delicious,” Garrett protested. “Really, Fen I don’t think that I can.”

Fenris held out the treat, bringing it close near Garrett’s mouth. Garrett eyed it like it was about to bite him and that’s when Fenris realized that he really was concerned about his capacity. He looked about to take a bite but then sighed and shook his head.

_“Cullen Rutherford,”_ he said.

Fenris straightened up his back and frowned. Not because he was disappointed; he wasn’t.

“You need to change your safe word,” he said flatly. “That one’s such a turn off.”

Garrett chuckled.

“I’ll think of something else when I’m less concerned about by my gut splitting open.”

“Hm.”

He wasn’t sure what it was that flipped in his head in that moment, but instead of putting the tray back down he realized that he was committing to finishing it himself. He didn’t even like sweet things but pressed in against Garrett like this and feeling the tightness of his own middle he knew that he wanted to see just how far he could go. To see if he liked it, instead of having to guess and worry about what it meant if he did like it.

He took the first bite but didn’t really taste it. He just needed to focus on getting through it. He frowned as the acidity of the lemon bit through his taste buds.

“You don’t like them,” Garrett said. Fenris took another bit and tilted his head slightly. It was fine. He shrugged and set himself to working through the rest of the tart. Between them he felt his dick throbbing more intensely as he ate. When he got to the second one, Garrett really caught on and his large palm was lightly cupping him on the side.

“You sure, babe? You don’t have to,” he said quietly, sounding in awe. Fenris pushed his stomach forward in response.

“I’m curious,” he said simply after swallowing. He wished they’d though to bring a glass of water or something to wash the tarts down with. How he hadn’t though of that before with all the times he’d participated in feeding Garrett now he realized what an oversight it was. Maybe next time they needed to include the gainer shake.

“You ate so much more than you usually do tonight,” Garrett said, rubbing his palm encouragingly over Fenris’s tight little stomach. It was hardly anything, as full as he felt. Halfway through the second tart he wondered if he’d been overambitious, but Garrett was rubbing soothing circles into his stomach and he rediscovered his resolve quickly.

“You’re still so small,” Garrett said.

“Still? You’ve noticed that I’ve put on some more weight?”

“Darling, I see you naked nearly every day.”

“What do you think of it?”

“I like how it’s mostly gone to your ass,” Garrett said, giving a playful squeeze. “But it’s hardly anything still. You’re still such a skinny guy.”

“Not for long if you keep bringing me those lunches.”

“I just like seeing you well-fed,” Garrett said, practically cooing as he continued to rub gentle circles over the tightness of his belly. “You get so tense but you look happy whenever we’re eating together.”

“Are you saying I’m tightly wound?” Fenris asked, looking down at Garrett accusingly and, surely, proving Garrett’s point.

“I’m saying a few softer edges never hurt anyone.”

“More than a few judging by how much you’re finding to pinch there,” Fenris said. Even so, he didn’t stop eating. He tried not to squirm too much each time Garrett gave him a little pinch but it was hard not to with how much it sent a jolt through him.

“I love it. Eat up.”

Fenris nodded, starting to feel truly beyond his capacity as he went on. He pushed onwards, swallowing the last of the second tart and quickly moving onto the third and final. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was running the math on trying to determine how many calories he was consuming but he tried to put a cold freeze on it. Easy, when Garrett was coaxing him through the last of it. He was down to the last few bites and felt his breath coming up short the way that Garrett’s had.

“Go on, you can finish it. There’s hardly any left anyways,” Garrett encouraged. “Need to do something to give me a little more to grab on to.”

Fenris tried not to get sloppy as he moaned around the last bites as Garrett took both their dicks into his large hand and gave a slow stroke. He clenched his teeth as he swallowed, trying to hold on. He covered Garrett’s hand with his own, stopping him from going further.  
  
“I still want to fuck you,” he said.

“Think you can?” Garrett asked.

“Please. I’m full but not nearly as much as you,” Fenris said, groping mercilessly at Garrett’s flabby underbelly and giving it a gently shake. Would his ever start to look the same? He let the thought bleed hot through his mind. Before he lost control through, he really did reach for the lube and condoms and made quick work of prepping them both.  
  
As he entered Garrett he slow and careful at first, watching the way he tensed before easing into the feeling. Once he saw that the expression was one of ecstasy rather than pain, he drew back and went again. He smirked, satisfied with the loud groan Garrett made as he pushed back in, going deeper than before. Going slowly like this a few more times he tried to focus on the way Garrett’s substantial belly pressed up into the starting curve of his own and tried to decide if it was better than before.  
  
His instinct was _yes_, but it was hard to make a sound judgment when he knew how much he liked sliding his dick into his chunky-as-fuck boyfriend’s hole and hearing him moan. And it was difficult to really get a good read on it given that he was so much smaller and even when Garrett underneath him there was something more substantial and present about him. His tight little belly was practically negligible in comparison. He wanted to know what this could feel like if he were bigger, if their difference in size wasn’t still so extreme. What would it feel like for his own wider, softer hips to be ramming into his boyfriend, little soft belly bumping up against the indisputable girth of Garrett’s larger one? Thinking along these lines, it didn’t take long for him to come.

When he came it _was_ more intense, if only because he’d let himself think so far down that line of thought of his own body expanding its borders and being swallowed within its own softness. It shot through him, hot from his dick then flooding heat through the rest of him; he knew he was being loud but it sounded distant from the place of pleasure he was occupying in his head. It wasn’t until he was hunched over and trembling that he realized that Garrett hadn’t even come yet.

“Shit, I’m—”

Garrett reached up, covering his mouth lightly and shaking his head, looking feverish.

“No, babe, that was so hot. I can finish myself,” he assured.

True to his word, it only took a couple of stokes to jerk himself off enough to spill his hot white cum up between his own belly and Fenris’. Fenris watched as Garrett came, already feeling himself readying to work himself back up again. But as Garrett’s body relaxed beneath him he knew that it was likely all they had in one another for the night with how full Garrett still was.

And how full _he_ was; it wasn’t just cumming that was making him feel suddenly so drowsy. Palming his own stomach again, his fingers found the already cool seed on his belly but he pressed his palm in lightly and made a small sound of surprise as his dick gave a twinge of interest. He pressed tight in against Garrett one last time and pulled out however. He tried to snap himself out of the post-coital haze but felt dazed as he cleaned the both of them up. Surprisingly, Garrett did get up to take a shower.  
  
He didn’t know what to make of it, but didn’t have to worry too long as he fell asleep with a hand splayed across his own full belly before Garrett even finished his shower.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's alright to test the waters. Or the donuts your boyfriend left in your fridge.

Fenris covered his face with the pillow and groaned.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said loudly.

“I’m sorry dearest, I can’t hear you from under the pillow,” Garrett said cheerfully.  
  
Fenris gave a short, pained shout before easing up on his grip and pulling the pillow down enough to look over the top of it. Garrett was sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a mug of coffee. Fenris sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly.

He didn’t get embarrassed easily. Frustrated, annoyed, angry; yes. Embarrassment, especially about sex, was rare and he wasn’t entirely sure of how to deal with it. But Hawke was here with coffee and orange juice so however humiliated he felt between when he woke up around 3am to sheepishly take a shower and now maybe wasn’t as big of a deal as it felt like. His chest felt tight, but he forced in a deep breath and pulled the pillow the rest of the way down and sat up.

Maybe self-consciously, he kept the pillow over his stomach. It still felt bloated. He accepted the coffee first, taking a small sip and letting the bitterness cut through and give him some fortitude against the conversation they did need to have. Hawke fidgeted, his wide palm resting on his leg just below the knee. He gave a light squeeze. Fenris dropped his eyes down to the way Garrett’s stomach puffed out in front of him and the way his thighs squashed in together and felt conflicted; he really_, really_ liked the weight on Garrett but this was the second time he was finding himself in something of a meltdown in response to his own weight and changing eating habits.

“I’m going to go get my coffee,” Garrett said, “I’ll be right back.”

Fenris nodded and took the time for another long breath. He knew why he felt like he’d done something wrong but knowing why wasn’t making it easier to stay calm. If this had happened with Danarius he’d be in deep shit. But it hadn’t. Hawke wasn’t mad. He was doing the caring thing and checking in. And if it had happened with Isabela, she wouldn’t have been upset either. So already that was two against one asshole, and it’d be three if he could just talk himself over to Garrett and Izzy’s side.

When Garrett returned, he had his coffee and Fenris noted that his boyfriend looked as nervous as he felt. It was hard to keep eye-contact and he quickly dropped his gaze down into his coffee.

“So…last night was surprising,” Garrett prompted gently. Fenris had the impulse to tell him it was nothing and that they should just dismiss it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t nothing. Maybe it wasn’t his first choice insofar as food and generally he preferred to have a plan but the reason he felt so embarrassed was because it _worked_ for him. Even thinking of it now, how the full feeling of his stomach had added a level of intensity that he didn’t often reach was making him blush.

When he looked up again, he quickly scowled when he saw that Garrett was well aware of how difficult it was for him to find the right words for this conversation.

“You are…extremely cute.”

Fenris clenched his jaw and breathed in through his nose. “Cute” was not something that Garrett was using to be dismissive and at least he was far along enough in their relationship that he could recognize that. Now it just made him blush worse.

“I didn’t plan for that to happen last night,” Fenris muttered.

“I didn’t think so.”

“I’ve wondered what it felt like for you, but I hadn’t planned to act on it. But I—” Fenris gave his head a shake, trying to jostle the words out. The weight itself wasn’t a big deal but it felt complicated. “I gained a few more pounds. Without trying. I don’t…”

He trailed. He felt like he needed to explain himself but watching Garrett’s expression soften he realized that it wasn’t what Garrett was looking for.  
  
“Are you worried about what I think?” Garrett asked.  
  
“Yes. I don’t want to be but I am.”

“You don’t have to be. Honestly, Fen, I know you’ve gained weight because you told me, but it’s hard to pick out exactly where it’s sticking; you’re still so skinny. But, if you did happen to gain more weight, that wouldn’t change how I feel about you and I wouldn’t ask you to do anything to avoid gaining more or to do anything about losing it either.”  
  
“Would you _like_ it?”  
  
Garrett tilted his head, thinking carefully of how to answer.  
  
“I’d be more concerned about if you liked it or not.”  
  
Fenris bit his lip. He didn’t want to have to hear it outrightly, but he needed to know if Garrett would like it. What if this got out of control and he bloated up to the point of being practically unrecognizable? What if Garrett saw him get flabby and bloated and just thought it was pathetic?

He knew that Garret wouldn’t think that. But Fenris wasn’t sure if that was a fear that would ever go away, and he didn’t want to find out the hard way. Too much shit had been hard, even with Garrett. It’d taken them so many years to finally get together in a way that felt whole. Garrett had waited so long for him to get his head together and what if he ruined it?

“Hey, babe,” Garrett said, breaking the train of his thoughts. “I know it’d be going against your natural inclinations, but you don’t need to overthink this on my account.”

Fenris gave a tight nod, still unconvinced. Garrett went on,

“What I found sexy about you last night was with how happy you looked. You’re ridiculously good at sex, but I’m uh…I’m not saying I’m bad but I’m never really sure if I’m ah…all that interesting? We both know that you’ve had more experience than me and sometimes I wonder if I’m keeping up. When I realized how turned on you got about my gaining weight was kind of the first time that I felt like I had a one-up on you. Not that it’s a competition. But since we’re being honest, I’ll admit that it was an ego boost.”

“That’s not why you decided to gain more weight, is it?” Fenris asked sharply.

Garrett didn’t seem bothered by the question which was more comforting than anything he might have said.

“No. Eating just makes me extremely happy,” he said plainly, “and I’ve always hated cardio. Turning you on is just an unexpected bonus and at most the effect has been that it’s loosened up my inhibitions.”  
  
Which, was both comforting and extremely endearing. Fenris sighed and reached down to stroke the top of Garrett’s hand with a curled finger.

“I always like sex with you. I’m never bored.”  
  
“Okay. But you have a hard time letting go. I get it; but it’s also why I like seeing you let loose like that. It doesn’t have to be this thing; like, really, no pressure from me on either gaining or losing weight, I just like seeing you happy.”

“You don’t get horny from seeing me happy,” Fenris said flatly.

_“No,_ but it makes me happy and makes me want to spoil you and get you all naked and flustered. The horniness is an extension of the happiness.”

Fenris snorted and then quickly hid behind his coffee mug.  
  
“Okay, but what would you do if I gained more weight. What if I actually got fat.”

Garrett hummed, thinking. Fenris watched as he set his coffee on the table and coaxed Fenris’ mug away from his as well.

“Well,” he started and pulled away the pillow that Fenris still had nestled over his middle. “I’d probably have to do a regular, and very thorough, examination as you worked yourself up to that. Maybe a bit of poking and pinching and seeing if it makes you squirm.”

Fenris felt himself go stiff as Garrett pinched the tiny bit of softness under his belly button.  
  
“I have a good feeling that it’d make you squirm.”

Fenris huffed an annoyed breath.

“Then I’d have to make sure you know that I love it as much as any other part of you. Lots of kissing and sucking, that kind of thing. Some love bites; you know, the going standards. And since I’m not planning on getting any smaller myself, I’d want to see just how it feels to get all cozy and squished up with one another. I think being a bit chubby would really contribute to your cuddling abilities.”  
  
“I’m not a cuddler,” Fenris protested.  
  
“Exactly, it might be a good way of exploring that part of yourself.”  
  
Garrett pushed an open palm up the side of his thigh and around his back as he gently dropped his weight down on him. Fenris held his breath as he felt the soft, warm mass of Garrett’s belly lay out overtop him. He really had gained so much weight; it was hard to believe even with the evidence laying right on top of him. Being around someone who ate so much and so happily seemed to be loosening up his own inhibitions, but it never occurred to him to be upset with Garrett. It helped that Garrett didn’t seem worried with whether there was more or less of him. Well, he worried when there was much less of him, but that was different.  
  
He just worried about him being happy.  
  
Fenris reached his hands up around Garrett’s growing form, squeezing shamelessly at the thick flesh of where his love handles were bulging over his too tight briefs. Garrett rutted in closer, his belly squashing up even more tightly between them.  
  
“You’re so fucking soft,” Fenris growled. “Heavy.”

“Not too heavy?” Garrett asked. He looked legitimately concerned and started to move off, but Fenris yanked him back down, enjoying the way it forced out a breath of air from him.  
  
“Not even close,” Fenris assured, spreading his thighs wider so that Hawke could settle in-between. Maybe he just felt a bit stiff from the night before, but it felt like a little more work to make space for Garrett’s expanding girth. This close, he could see that Garret’s jaw had softened considerably and sure enough, a little second chin was starting to develop. Fenris eyed it hungrily, hoping that it’d become even just a little thicker sooner rather than later so that he could nibble on it.  
  
“Maybe with a little more weight on me you wouldn’t worry so much about crushing me,” Fenris said softly, the words feeling a little clumsy on his lips. But he wanted to test them out.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Garrett agreed, practically purring. “I bet you’re still so small that you wouldn’t even fit into my old jeans still.”  
  
Fenris filed that thought away for later; for now, he was little worried about the time and craned his head over to look at the clock. Garrett took the opportunity to suck on the sensitive skin of his throat and seeing that they had plenty of time, he let himself shiver underneath it as he groped at all the extra softness that’d built up on his chubby, beefy boyfriend.  
  


* * *

  
  
Fenris held his thumb over top the send button, still scrutinizing the picture that he’d taken. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d sent a sext. But this one was a little different considering he was still fully clothed; _the point_ of it was that he was still fully clothed. With his other hand he tugged at the jeans he was wearing; not his own.  
  
_Fuck it._ He hit send then started typing a message to follow.  
  
Fenris: _Still a little more room.  
  
_Before he even had a chance to shove the phone away and check to see if Garrett had replied later, he could already see Garrett typing out a message.

Garrett: _Sweet Andraste. Warn a man before you send him illicit content while at dinner with his mother.  
  
_Fenris almost felt bad but when the next text followed with a string of eggplant emojis punctuated with a splash of sweat drops he smirked and set his phone back on his dresser. He turned his attention back to the mirror, looking at how the jeans didn’t quite fit and marvelling at how they’d well off the list of options for Garrett now. It wasn’t a question of whether they’d be comfortable or not; Fenris was sure that Garrett simply had too much belly now to even button them.  
  
For himself, there was in fact more than a little bit of room. With his shirt on too, it was hard to tell that there was any difference at all. When he’d gotten home he’d dug the jeans out of the drawer he had for Garrett where they’d slowly migrated to the back. Truthfully, the image of him in the jeans was a little uninspiring compared to how thick Garrett had gotten, but in taking a clearer look at how much he _did_ fill out the jeans when before they likely wouldn’t have even stayed up, the differences were clear for him.  
  
He yanked his shirt off to look more closely. Though he still looked quite lean, weeks of working two desk jobs without time to go to the gym and eating more had softened his belly in a way that he hadn’t ever seen before. The usual V-shape of his torso had blurred. Turning to his side he could see more clearly how his stomach bowed out and how his ass had started to poke out a bit more. The weight looked like it was naturally pooling lower than it did on Garrett. It was different, but he looked good, he decided. His “usual” weight was on the side of an unhealthy kind of skinny anyways. If he were still going to the gym and eating the way he was now, he’d probably have an easier time putting on muscle. If he wound up deciding that he didn’t really care for the softness, maybe he could work on that instead.  
  
“Muscle-chub,” he muttered lowly then scoffed. The idea that his body could look in any way divergent from what Danarius had sculpted it to be was unreal to him. Even now with his softer middle, the lines of his tattoos clung to a specific shape. But the thin white lines had bent a little and that felt…freeing. It made him wonder what it would start to look like if they really became distorted with the changing perimeters of his body.

Still, he was tentative to dive in. His dinner tonight had been modest, and he was comfortably full. He wasn’t sure how much of having Garrett around was necessary for him to feel the way he had with those damned tarts or if it was something he’d enjoy on his own as well. Being so full and bloated the previous night had been _a part_ of the sex. Maybe on his own he’d just feel underwhelmed. Considering the time and how early he had to be up the next day, he decided that it was something to explore a different time.  
  
Then he remembered that Garrett had left some donuts; they wouldn’t be good if they sat another day. He shucked off the jeans he was wearing and tentatively made his way to his kitchen. Even though no one was watching him, he felt a little guilty; he wasn’t hungry. And despite how many more sweets he’d been consuming lately, he still couldn’t really say that he cared all that much for them. Still, pulling the container out from the fridge, he felt his curiosity pique and dick twitch.  
  
Donuts were really the worst; deep fried and coated in icing and sugar it was clear how decadent they were with their empty calories and high fat content. Garrett regularly polished off half-dozen boxes of them now. The only reason these were still here was because of a deal on the full dozen size boxes. As he opened the box he frowned; the icing was looking a bit flakey and the ones that had been powdered just looked melted and sticky despite being in the fridge. But despite the unappealing nature of the choice of food, he felt his dick going hard at the thought of how they’d contribute to rounding out his belly. How much work would it take to have a proper little gut? There was no way he could eat the way that Garrett did, but adding a little here and there would at least let him explore the whole thing properly.  
  
Fenris swallowed hard; he felt like he was falling into this a little too quickly. He wasn’t even entirely sure of all the reasons for why he felt so compelled to feel it out; it’d probably be better to take a step back and think it over.  
  
But Hawke was right; he had trouble letting go. That little bit extra of here and there might be a good way of easing out some of his rigidness. Even if the cost was softening out his body. Maybe even just enough to notice; maybe just enough to get properly chubby.  
  
There were four donuts left in total; that was more than a little. He eyed them uncertainly and rubbed his palm over his stomach. It was a decently firm line from his dinner; that was nothing unusual. Without someone else scheduling his day, he’d always tended to backload his eating to the end of the day. It’d never been a problem before and even with the weight creeping up on him now he was almost convinced that it still wasn’t a problem. Or, if it was, it was the fun kind. He’d had very few fun problems in his life. Getting horny from being stuffed beyond what was necessary was a _fun_ problem.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for what was sure to be way too sticky and way too sweet. Sure enough, as he bit in it was clear that the donuts were a little dried out and the sweetness was almost overwhelming to the point of making his teeth sing, but at the same time he felt his dick starting to go harder; he had a full-on erection just from the excitement of letting himself abandon some of his tightly wound control.  
  
Restraining himself at least a little, he kept his hands off his throbbing dick, instead opting to keep a hand pressed against his belly. He choked a little on a piece of donut, not entirely paying attention to the food itself and instead marvelling at how much this just felt like edging. It didn’t make sense, but as he took another bite that didn’t really seem to matter.  
  
He downed one donut and he couldn’t really tell if they were too old or just not to his tastes. They were dry. He moved his hand off his stomach and as he was taking the last bite of the first one pulled out the milk from the fridge. It was almond, so not as dense as actual milk, but considering that he hadn’t planned to be cramming in extra calories for the night he wasn’t going to worry about it. He rarely bought actual milk; another food item he wasn’t too interested in. He unscrewed the top and took a long swig directly from the container. As he worked his way through the remaining donuts, he was already distantly trying to think of ways to make putting on some extra weight more quickly without offending his palette. He hadn’t ever really thought of himself as a picky eater until now.  
  
With the help of the milk, he made his way through the remaining donuts quickly enough. In less than ten minutes he’d likely added over a thousand calories to his daily intake. The thought made him a little dizzy, but not as much as the pressing feeling of his stomach stretching out with everything he’d forced in there. It wasn’t as much as the night before, but it was more than he needed.  
  
Finished with the donuts, he set down the milk container and gently ran his fingertips over the curve his stomach. Looking down, it was clearly more pronounced. He felt a shiver go up his spine and quickly turned, going to the washroom to jerk himself off. This was ridiculous.  
  
Before he made it to the washroom however, he spotted the jeans were still on his bed, not yet folded and put away. Biting his lip, he was fighting against the impulse to pull them back on and see if he’d made any real “progress” in filling them out. Of course, the bloating was all in his stomach and wouldn’t do anything to help him fill out the backside of the jeans, but…okay.  
  
He let out a shaky breath and diverted his path and took up the jeans in hand. Gingerly he bent over to get them on, feeling the way his stomach resisted being compressed. Slowly, he pulled them back up and felt both a sense of dread and excitement at what he might discover.  
  
True enough, there was still quite a lot of room in them. Garrett had been a big man even before he started plumping up. But, with his stomach this full and having just taken such a careful look at it, it gave Fenris a bit more of an idea of what it would look like to be closer to fitting them. And fuck, as he turned to the side it was nothing short of enticing. The bloated curve of his belly jutted out in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. Pressing his fingertips over the top, it was firm, and he felt a strange wishing ache for it to be soft instead. That would take time.  
  
For now though, he could just work on fitting in a bit more. Going back to the kitchen he took up the container again and decided to finish it. It’d been a nearly full container when he’d opened it. The sated feeling was almost too much; he downed the milk as quickly as he could manage before he could think about it too much. With his hand over the side of his bloated belly he swore he could feel it expanding.  
  
When he finished, he felt breathless, both from having drank the milk so quickly but also from the tightness in his belly and the way it was forcing upwards. He carefully made his way back over to the mirror to look at the damage and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of his rounded out middle. The extra bloating of the milk had pushed him to the edge of his capacity. It really was a shame that it didn’t have more calories in it considering how much work it took to ignore the signals from his body telling him that he was overdoing it. The liquid had made it feel as though he’d really utilized every bit of space in his body and the heat of his arousal and his stomach starting to work to process everything he’d crammed in there radiated out through his limbs. He could see why Garrett liked this.  
  
He pulled the shirt back on, breath hitching as he saw how it snagged around his middle. Clothed, it really was difficult to note that he’d gained weight; you really did have to see him naked to get a sense of it. But filled up and rounded out like this his belly was clear. He snapped another picture from the front, and then another of the side. With one hand cradling his belly and the other swiping through the photos he compared the two, amazed with the difference even a small and impromptu stuffing made. He bit down harshly on his lip, trying to get his wits back around him. His boner was pretty clear in the picture as well and looking at the relatively nondescript picture of himself, little belly filling out the shirt.  
  
He sent them to Garrett.  
  
Fenris: _Did my best.  
  
_He felt himself trembling a little as he waited to see a message pinged back. His palms felt sweaty. His whole body was starting to go into overdrive, going hot with the work of digesting all the extra food he’d used to fill himself out for a little hint of what he could expect in the future if he kept letting these little explorations happen. When no notification showed up that Garrett had seen the message yet, he turned off the screen and got undressed again.  
  
Laying out on his bed, he carefully rubbed soothing circles over his stuffed middle, gripping at it curiously as though some new fat could have already settled in over him.

He wondered why this and why now; what was so different. Was it really a sense of freedom he was exploring with this or was it just reckless abandon? He thought about his tattoos and how they must be completely distorted like this and his thoughts trailed over to how much it would take for it to start bending on other parts of his body. How much more weight until his chest started to get puffy like Hawke’s? How much more until his arms started looking thick, and his thighs?  
  
Somewhere in that line of thought he gave up on not touching himself and jerked himself off quickly. The release left him feeling breathless and limp and it took some fighting to find the wherewithal to get up and clean himself off before he managed to accidentally get cum all over his fresh sheets. He smiled a little, thinking of Garrett’s own aversion to cleaning as being the reason why he gorged himself so tidily.  
  
He waited until his breath went steady again before he started delicately making his way to the washroom to wash off his hands. With his curiosity sated for now and erection taken care of he felt himself starting to settle. Glancing in the mirror he gave another quick examination of his bloated middle and simply felt…content. Seeing himself like this, at least temporarily, didn’t make him feel bad. It didn’t make the world fall down or Danarius suddenly appear to exact some kind of punishment on him. The two things were about the same to him and that was disturbing but this…this was just unexpected.  
  
And hot. He couldn’t help but look at himself and think that he looked hot. Another pleasant surprise, even if it didn’t factor in how he might feel if that was the natural state of his stomach or how he’d feel about anyone other than Hawke seeing the difference.

When he got back to his room he checked his phone and saw that there were six notifications, all from Garrett. Smirking, he unlocked the screen and saw that Garrett was still typing another message. A quick glance over the string of texts showed nothing but positive reactions.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it more strategic to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

“Please, I made so many,” Sebastian said, trying to foist off a container of extremely decadent looking brownies that Josephine had already turned down. “The recipe…I don’t know why I didn’t realize it while I was making it, but it was obviously meant to feed a small army.”

“I’m really not a fan,” Fenris insisted. He _really_, honestly wasn’t, even in the best of digestive moments. It was obvious now, but at the time, he hadn’t considered that a multi-day stomach ache simply from eating too much of…well, everything, was possible. But his hand hovered over his middle defensively.

“Would Hawke eat them?” Sebastian asked.  
  
Fenris sighed.

“He will,” he said, taking the container, chock full of brownies.  
  
“Perfect,” Sebastian said, sounding genuinely relieved. He smoothed his hands over the front of his apron, outlining the gentle curve of his stomach. Fenris felt a twinge of envy; he’d never heard Garrett or Sebastian complain about eating too many sweets despite it being quite evident that they did so with notable frequency.  
  
Ironically, following the two days in a row of intentionally eating more calorie dense foods he’d found it necessary to eat very carefully. The binges had left him feeling sensitive and uncomfortably bloated as his body tried to process all the unusual input. If he was going to gain weight, it wasn’t how he wanted to feel at all; what he _liked_ about Garrett getting so soft was how comfortable he looked and how pliant his flesh felt in his hands. All it’d left him with was his body just felt like a garburator. It wasn’t sexy. Or cute. It left him eating much lighter fare and drinking ginger tea trying to wait out what he knew fully to have brought upon himself.

Being stuffed, full to the brim, had felt amazing in the moment. The consequences were…less amazing. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Garrett about it. There hadn’t been a chance at game night and today was really the last chance he had to see if he could actually manage to make this vegan monstrosity of a cake for his birthday.  
  
“Fenris,” Sebastian said gently. “Take a breath. I’ll make a back-up cake and if worse comes to worse, I will deliver it myself.”  
  
Fenris didn’t take the breath as he was told but gave a tight nod. It was a cake; he didn’t need to get this stressed about it. It just…would be nice. To be able to make something that Garrett would enjoy. Through all these months he’d been watching his boyfriend eat himself out of his clothes through his own cooking and it’d finally crossed his mind that he wanted to actively contribute to it seeing as it made him so happy. And here he was, struggling to make a cake.  
  
“So, we’re going to try this lemon cake. Tart and sweet,” Sebastian announced. Fenris nodded and pulled on an apron, pulling the long strings around his body and tying it in the front. Comparing himself to Sebastian only made him realize how much smaller he really was, despite the extra weight he’d put on. Where the apron generously highlighted the soft, steady curve of Sebastian’s middle, there was really nothing to speak of on himself. Complicated desires and questions for later.  
  
Right now, he really needed to make a passable cake.  
  
Perhaps he was just eager to focus on something else or he’d actually managed to pull together enough from all these very generous one-on-one cooking lessons but he actually…did manage to make quite a good tasting cake. They’d made a simple vanilla frosting to ice it with and decorating it with the icing bag was something he found much easier than making the cake itself.  
  
“Maybe write something a bit more flattering than that when you make it for his birthday,” Sebastian said, fighting back a smile.

“You don’t think ‘good work, dumbass’ is an appropriate birthday message?”

“This is the vegan cake you are making specifically to accommodate his mother as well, yes?”  
  
“Leandra has a…broad sense of humour. But maybe you’re right, it’s not really the tone I’m going for.”

They cleaned up for the day and cut the cake into pieces, carefully deconstructing Fenris’ note-to-self and putting it into the fridge for the drop-in group the next day.  
  
“Are you nervous about making it again?” Sebastian asked.

“…yes.”

“You’ll be fine. I barely did anything this time.”

Fenris frowned, not quite believing Sebastian.  
  
“Really,” Sebastian assured. “I mostly just watched.”

“Well…thank-you,” Fenris said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “I owe you.”  
  
“Just continue on your journey of the joys of baking and I’ll consider the debt repaid.”

Fenris tried not to cringe and decided that he’d comply for now instead of arguing and insisting that he repay Sebastian for his time. He’d return the favour when he had something to offer in hand.  
  
They shut off the lights and Fenris grabbed his bag, ready to head home for the night. He’d been walking home the last couple of days in hopes that some exercise would help his body feel less like it was trying to implode in on itself. Maybe it was a combination of all the sitting he’d had to do with both jobs in addition to eating so much sugar that was throwing him off. Glancing at his watch he tried to parse out if maybe he actually did have time to go to the gym; but he hadn’t brought his long-neglected work-out clothes and by time he want to his place and got them then made his way back…he sighed, a hot puff of air going up in front of him. He started walking.  
  
Now dealing with the unexpected repercussions of binge-eating he was even more conflicted about this game he seemed to have initiated with Hawke over the idea of gaining some more weight himself. His motivations felt blurred. It troubled him more than he wanted it to. Shaking his head, he took out his phone to check for messages.  
  
Isabela: _Dove, you’ve been quiet; how are you?  
  
_Fenris sighed and shoved the phone back in his pocket to answer later; he didn’t want to drag up this conversation again with Isabela. Even if it’d probably help. If they talked about it just gave all that more reason to overthink it.  
  
_Just enjoy your time with Garrett_, he tried to reason with himself. He wasn’t worried about time running out anyways, not like he used to. The man waited years for him and wasn’t going to suddenly leave without warning. Fenris hunched his shoulders forward against the wind. He really was tired; coming so close to finishing shifts at the university for the holidays was making him more conscious of the strain it’d been working two jobs. Just two more days; then Hawke’s birthday. Then Izzy would be there a few days later, then Christmas. Then a trip in the new year.  
  
He stopped and took out his phone again. The plan was to go home and sleep, but he wanted to see Hawke. He quickly texted asking if he could come over. He milled around underneath a closed up store awning for a few minutes, waiting to see if there was an answer.  
  
Hawke: _Yes; just making dinner._  
  
Fenris: _Be there in 45 minutes.  
  
_Yeah; it was a longer walk to Hawke’s than his own place, but he felt like he needed it. It was cold; colder than he was dressed for but it was a welcome distraction to contend against the cold over his own thoughts. The snow wasn’t thick enough on the sidewalks to really hinder his walking, but his shoes quickly soaked through because of it. By time he made it to Hawke’s doorstop he was freezing, and his fingers were numb; he fumbled with the key a few times. Dog was already barking behind the door. Before he could successfully get the damn key in, Garrett had opened the door, doing his best to hold Dog behind him.

“You’ve already been out for hours today you Maker-forsaken creature,” he said, sounding tired. With one hand he held Dog back and with the other took Fenris’s hand and pulled him in. Fenris let himself be ushered in, the heat coming down in a wave. His ears were stinging and the skin across his cheeks felt flushed and dry.  
  
“Did you walk?” Garrett admonished as he pulled him in close. Fenris set his hands over Garrett’s hips. He gave a single gentle squeeze before pushing Garrett back so that he could take off his coat.  
  
“It wasn’t that long,” he said, even as he had the distinct sensation of also not quite feeling his toes as he pulled his shoes off.  
  
“Fenris, it’s freezing out there,” Garrett said softly. “You don’t even have a proper winter jacket.”  
  
“I should buy one,” Fenris agreed wearily, ignoring Garrett’s concerned tone. Yes, he’d gone out underdressed in shitty weather as a distraction, _yes_ Garrett knew that he was prone to such things, _no_ they were not going to spend too much time on it right now. He hung his jacket and moved past Garrett and Dog, going straight to the living room and sinking in the furthermost edge of the couch near the fire.

“I love that you have a fire place,” he muttered, leaning back. He resisted going down to the floor to sprawl out in front of it. Dog immediately came over and came up on the couch, resting his paws and gigantic head in his lap. Fenris reached down with still numb fingers and scratched behind his ears.  
  
“How are you?” he asked, peering over at Garrett who was still watching him as though trying to suss out if he had any dire oncoming symptoms of pneumonia. Giving up, Garrett sighed, then shrugged.  
  
“Pretty slow at the office; mostly waiting on emails and phone calls that probably won’t come through until the near year,” he said. “Have you eaten?”

Fenris shook his head.  
  
“Perfect; I made stew. And dumplings.”  
  
Garrett left and Fenris closed his eyes, waiting for the heat to come back to his body. Holding his back so stiff in the cold made it ache and his lips were painfully chapped. Garrett came back with a bowl of stew and pushed Dog off the couch to take his place instead. The creature basically melted off him, stubbornly keeping pressed up against his legs. Fenris wiggled his toes underneath him and Dog made a low bark in response, squeezing in closer.  
  
Garrett pressed the bowl of stew into his hands then pushed back a strand of hair.

“I don’t think I’ve seen your hair this long in years.”

“I’ve been meaning to cut it,” Fenris agreed, moving his spoon through the bowl and seeing what Hawke had put in it. “This looks good.”  
  
“The wonder of slow-cookers,” Garrett said warmly. “Mind if I put on the news?”

Fenris shook his head, preferring that they didn’t sit in silence while he ate. Garrett sunk in beside him and only watched the news for five minutes before switching over to some old horror movie that looked vaguely familiar. Something about a possessed prince, maybe.  
  
With Garrett at his side and the heat returning to him he felt himself starting to relax again. He’d spent so long on his own that he was still getting used to the idea that he really was welcome over whenever he liked. Garrett said he never needed to ask but he still couldn’t bring himself up to show up truly unprompted. It’d only been a couple of days, but he realized that part of his mounting anxiety had been missing this domestic time he’d become so accustomed to.

“I love you,” Fenris said, pausing between spoonfuls. Garrett nestled in closer.

“Love you too.”  
  
He finished the stew and Garrett got up.

“Want any more?”  
  
Fenris shook his head.  
  
“No, that was plenty. I don’t want to overdo it; the couple of days didn’t feel so great. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Oh, patience, practice, and an all-consuming predilection of succumbing to indulgence,” Garrett said airily as he whisked away the bowl. Fenris rolled his eyes, but was relieved that Garrett seemed to think nothing of his admission. When he returned, Hawke gestured at the tv.

“You want to watch the rest of this or something else?”

Fenris shrugged.  
  
“Let’s just finish it.”  
  
“Perfect.”  
  
Hawke rejoined him on the couch and tried to pull Fenris down to lay with him but they quickly came up with a slight logistical problem; they didn’t comfortably fit the way they used to. Fenris tried to shift back from the edge enough to feel like Garrett didn’t have to hang onto him for dear life to keep them aloft but there was enough belly behind him that it wasn’t possible. Fenris bit back a smile.  
  
“Garrett, do you mind if we try switching spots. One wrong move and you’re going to drop me onto Dog.”  
  
Garrett peered over to see what Fenris meant, nearly doing just that in the process and forcing Fenris to kick out a leg to stop himself from falling on the dog.  
  
“Ah ha,” Garrett said in agreement and started shifting to accommodate. It took a few moments of readjusting to make sure they didn’t step on the dog, but eventually got it sorted out. Fenris circled a hand around to Garrett’s belly. His thumb sunk into his belly button and he gave the whole load a little heft where it poked just over the edge of the couch.  
  
“This getting in the way more often?” he asked.  
  
“It’s…taking some adjustment,” Garrett admitted. “Not as much as my hips though; they’re all tender from walking into every damn desk and counter.”  
  
Fenris moved his hand around up to Garrett’s hip and gently smoothed his palm over them.  
  
“I have noticed a few nasty bruises that weren’t from me.”  
  
Garrett hummed. Fenris kissed the mans great rounded shoulder and let him sink back into watching the movie, gently stroking his belly. Of course, Garrett was plenty full, he could feel it even underneath the smooth layer of fat. The more he stoked and pinched the wobbling mass, the more he could feel Garrett squirming, backing his ass into him. Fenris gave his belly a few pats and stopped for a while; at least until the end of the movie he decided. He tried to keep his touch more neutral, resting it on curve of Garrett’s rounded belly. Without meaning to indulge his curiosity however, he found himself sliding his hand up over Garrett’s chest, fingers exploring the way his position made his puffed-up pectorals poke out more like little breasts. Unable to resist, he placed his palm over them, judging to see if he could get a proper handful. The resulting answer was _not quite_, but he wasn’t far off. He passed his thumb over Garrett’s nipple, feeling it tighten as he fondled the sensitive flesh. Still, it was largely idle, neither of them quite ready to chase after where this was inevitably leading. It was comforting, Fenris thought, sexual but not in the way he felt overwhelmingly taken with the urge to tear the man’s clothes off and drive his dick into him.  
  
Betrayingly, his dick twinged in interest at the thought, something he was sure that Garrett hadn’t missed as he pressed in tight. Fenris stopped his ministrations and placed his hand just underneath his _tit_ where his stomach started to bulge out and steadfastly held position until the credits started to roll. There were a few lingering moments as they listened to the theme music before Garrett gave up and started moving, positioning himself up overtop Fenris’ hips.  
  
“I’m not even sure what I just watched with you _fondling_ me the whole time,” he accused. Fenris pulled himself back so that he could lean on the armrest and unabashedly reached up to squeeze Garrett’s belly.  
  
“It’s relaxing.”  
  
“Mm hm,” Garrett said, arms behind him and resting lightly on Fenris’ thighs.  
  
“You didn’t think so?” Fenris asked innocently. Garrett scowled, but didn’t make any move to get off of him when Fenris used both hands to grip at the ball of fat perched in between them. He pressed his thumb in his belly button again, using it was a way of gripping the surrounding flesh and pushing it upwards. His eyes widened a bit, realising that at least in these jeans, Garrett’s belly had started to hang over to obscure the button. He let the soft mass drop; it gave a little jiggle as it settled. On each side, Fenris traced the line of what appeared to be, finally, a little overhang.

“You’re getting so big so fast,” he said, knowing that his voice practically dripped with envy.  
  
“The rewards of my efforts,” Hawke said, wiggling his hips a little and making his belly sway from side to side. Fenris stared openly, his dick starting to go hard. Garrett sunk a little more of his weight over him and Fenris bit his lip to stop himself from letting out a sound that likely would have come out as a _whine_ more than anything else. He reached around to Garrett’s thigh and gave a tight squeeze.  
  
_“That’s cheating,”_ he hissed.  
  
“What?” Garrett said, twisting his hips again. “That?”  
  
_“What else?”  
  
_“Hm, maybe this?” Garrett said, reaching up his own chest and grabbing at moob. “I feel like they practically appeared overnight.”  
  
Fenris hummed, feigning contemplation as he set both hands on the side of Garrett’s thickened waist. He’d loved the proud ball shape it’d taken on with each pound but seeing that it was starting to sag, dragged down by its own weight was making him feel tingly all over. Reverently, he traced his fingers over Garrett’s front and smirked when he watched the man fight against a shiver.  
  
“You look so good,” he said, voice low. “Do you feel good?”  
  
“Yeah, I feel good, Fen,” Garrett said, dropping his hand behind him again. Fenris placed his palms wide on either side of Garrett’s belly and pressed together, forcing everything to pouch outwards. He gave it a good jiggle, mesmerized at how malleable it was.  
  
“Fuck, don’t stop,” Garrett said. Fenris looked up, watching as Garrett closed his eyes, looking as satisfied as Dog did when he got his belly rubbed. Fenris felt a pang of endearment at the look of contentment but couldn’t ignore the growing bulge down in Garrett’s jeans. He traced a finger on the underside of Garrett’s belly, a little sliver of flesh poking out underneath his shirt. After pushing the shirt up over his pot-bellied front, Fenris continued to play with the soft flesh, lifting and squeezing and dropping down. He alternated between being a little gentler, a little more rough, cataloguing all the ways Garrett’s growing gut could move now. He traced his fingers along the grain of his hair, radiating outwards from the outermost crest of the damned thing and gave searching squeezes moving upwards and cupping the little peaked flesh of his chest. He reached in underneath and tried to work his fingers in between where Garrett’s jeans were biting into the soft meat of his hips.  
  
“Need new jeans soon?” he asked.  
  
“Mm,” Garrett hummed slowly. “I think they can manage a few more pounds at least.”  
  
Fenris continued to play with the creamy flesh for a little longer, thinking it was cute whenever Garrett pushed his stomach forward into the touch. Eventually it was too much though and Fenris felt himself needing more, his dick hard and aching in-between them. It took some work, but he got Garrett unbuttoned. His thick stomach pushed the zipper halfway down just from its own weight and everything spilled forward, making Fenris bite his lip hard. He gently traced one of Hawke’s stretch marks; he still didn’t that have many but the ones he did looked red and angry.  
  
“You’re so sexy,” he muttered once the words trickled back to him. “Fattening up so quickly; you’ve wanted to be a pig for a long time, haven’t you?”  
  
Garrett groaned, grinding his weight down into Fenris and making him curl forwards involuntarily. He responded by bucking upwards once he had the wherewithal.  
  
“And you still want to get bigger, don’t you?” Fenris went on. “Give me a little more to work with?”  
  
“Oh Maker…yes.”  
  
Garrett was looking flushed, both from the effort and Fenris’s touch. _Enough of this_, Fenris thought, pushing Garrett back.  
  
“Bed, now,” he ordered. Garrett looked a little cumbersome as he pulled himself up and off of him. He clearly hadn’t adjusted to all the extra weight he was carrying. Once he had his footing however, he hauled Fenris up with a single arm; soft, but still strong. Fenris felt anticipation bubble up in his chest as he nudged Garrett back in the direction of the stairs.  
  
“You go first, I want to get a good look at this,” Fenris said, lightly smacking his ass. “I swear it’s wider ever time I look at it.”  
  
“_Feels_ wider every time I sit,” Garrett said, trying to regain some ground in their banter. It worked and Fenris was silent as they went up, entirely engrossed in the way Garrett’s ass moved even as it was stuffed into the too small jeans. Did he really think that they would last a few more pounds? They looked overtaxed even undone like this, seams straining across the seat and thighs. He wanted so badly to ask how much he weighed now but didn’t want to deter them to the scale.  
  
“How do you want this?” Garrett asked as he sat on the bed. It took Fenris a second to answer, watching the way his thighs spread out and his stomach came dangerously close to resting on his thighs. Maybe another fifteen pounds.  
  
“I want to feel this in between us,” he said finally, gripping at the soft bulge. Garrett arched into it the followed the motion to work at getting his jeans off. Fenris meant to start undressing himself but paused with his shirt half off to watch the way Garrett’s gut wobbled and shook as he struggled to peel the denim off. Realizing he had the upper hand, Garrett grabbed his own stomach and gave it a shake. He said nothing but smirked when he saw Fenris dive into his own shirt to hide that he was definitely blushing.  
  
“I love, that of all things, _this_,” he gave another deliberate shake when Fenris couldn’t resist looking, “Is what gets you going.”  
  
“There’s nothing to dislike about a good, fat belly,” Fenris said in an attempt to sound partisan for his own sake. If things went on the way they were after all, it wasn’t just going to be Garrett’s belly stuck in-between the two of them. He took a small breath, not letting himself rest too long on the thought. “Especially one that’s been so well-earned.”  
  
“I do put a lot of work into this,” Garrett said, patting the plump mass in front of him appraisingly.  
  
“Hmm, is that a suggestion that you might need a little more help with it?” Fenris asked.  
  
“All help is appreciated,” Garrett said. “But maybe a little later so we can still have sex.”  
  
“Practical of you,” Fenris said approvingly, pulling off his own jeans. “I was starting to think that you preferred to watch me jerk myself off while watching you eat.”  
  
“Fenris I—never,” Garrett said, looking genuinely aghast. “It just takes…more planning than I realized.”  
  
“Did you plan for tonight?”  
  
“…a little. It feels like it’s been a while.”  
  
“It hasn’t.”  
  
_“Days_ are a while.”  
  
“I’d hate to think of what you’d do after a month.”  
  
Garrett caught Fenris by the hips, guiding him down but looked concerned.  
  
“Um…is that your way of saying you’re going somewhere?”  
  
Fenris paused.  
  
“What? No. Not without you.”  
  
Garrett squeezed his hips. Sometimes, Fenris forgot about Garrett’s insecurities. He’d never describe Garrett as clingy, but he’d never met anymore more acutely frightened at the prospect of losing someone. Not surprising after what happened with his father; even less after what happened with Anders. There was the close call with Bethany too, not so many years ago. For all of Hawke’s natural gregariousness, he kept few especially close. He dropped himself down over Hawke.  
  
“Don’t want to be anywhere without you,” he promised. He stared down into Garrett’s face imploringly._ Believe me_.  
  
“Right. Of course. Sorry, just being a silly goose,” Garrett said, not sounding convinced. Fenris pressed them in together with a kiss, gently and patiently, the way he knew that Garrett needed sometimes. He took his time, letting it start slow, letting Garrett take the lead and make it deeper. When they broke apart, Fenris pressed their foreheads against each other and stayed still.  
  
“I love you,” he said again. He pulled back so that he could read Garrett’s expression. This time it looked like he believed him. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
“Me neither,” Hawke promised.  
  
Fenris leaned in for another kiss, this time letting himself enjoy the way the soft mass of Garrett’s gut moved underneath him. His hands drifted over Hawke’s body, enjoying each bit of softness to it’s fullest and still imagining more. Compared to Hawke, his own extra weight was laughable; thirteen pounds? It was hardly noticeable. He pressed in closer. Garrett was hard and as he reached down in under the tight elastic of his underwear, he realized that he was already leaking from his tip. Fenris took a breath, moving his attention to Garrett’s softening chest and sucking on one of his nipples, pressing his tongue hot over the man’s skin. Garrett gasped as he gave a light bite. Decisively, he focused his attention at getting a condom from the night stand. Garrett already was widening the space between his thick thighs in anticipation.  
  
Fenris quickly got the condom on and covered himself with a generous slathering of lube before turning his attention back to Garrett. He took more care with Garrett than himself. Garrett shuddered a little at the cold as it pressed in against his hole. As he pressed his fingers in and around his hole, he enjoyed watching the little squirms of pleasure Garrett made and how he habitually bit back any loud noises that may have escaped. Sometimes Fenris reminded Garrett that he had a whole house to himself, but the shy restraint was as precious to him as anything else.  
  
Once he was sure that Garrett was ready, he guided Garrett’s legs around his waist and gave him another kiss before he really got started. He leaned in tightly, feeling Garrett’s dick pushed into him as his belly gave it little room to go anywhere else. Garrett’s gut quashed up in-between them tightly, spreading warm and hot against him. It made him growl a little into the kiss. There wasn’t as much that was gentle now, their tongues un-coordinated and hungry. Once he was satisfied, he gave a light bite on Garrett’s lower lip.  
  
Reaching down between them, guiding his dick in to Garrett. He started slow, watching Garrett carefully for any signs of discomfort. When there was nothing he drew back and pushed in a little more quickly, letting himself build it up carefully. When everything seemed kosher, he started to work in earnest, watching as Garrett started to unravel more rapidly beneath him. Sex with Garrett had always been his favourite, but as he watched the way his new, thicker form shook and jiggled with his thrusts he felt his body go from tingling to a feverish heat of arousal.  
  
“You’re so fucking soft,” he growled, crashing in.  
  
“More cushion—”  
  
“Garrett,” Fenris groaned warningly.  
  
Garrett laughed breathlessly between thursts but gave him the mercy of not finishing his sentence.  
  
Feeling the way that Garrett’s belly compressed and expanded against him as he fucked him in earnest was dizzying; he felt himself sweating both from the effort and his arousal. Garrett was tight and hot and he knew that it wouldn’t be long until he came, feeling his control slipping. Once Fenris imagined what this would feel like with both of their thicker bellies plush and squishing in-between one another and he felt that switch of control turn off in his brain as he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back.  
  
“Shit—Garrett, I can’t—” he tried.  
  
“Go on,” Garrett said, heels digging in tight as he urged Fenris deeper.  
  
With that, he picked up his pace one last tick forward and felt the heat rush forward from him and his brain spiked out white in pleasure of release. He cried out, loud even to his own ears but didn’t care, pausing as the heat flooded through him. It _ached_ in a way that was beyond pain as he tried to draw it out as long as he could with his last few thrusts. He was practically gasping for air when he finished, feeling sweaty and overwrought. He didn’t pull out right away, instead sinking forwards over Garrett as his limbs went limp. He shivered a little as Garrett’s large hands went up over his back reassuringly.  
  
“You’re good,” Garrett assured, not as a compliment but as reassurance. Fenris tried to push himself back but realized that he was trembling a little with the force of his ejaculation. He let himself drop again, waiting, instead of trying, to regain his composure. He could feel the sweat beading at his forehead and felt much too warm from the heat built up over his own efforts as much as from the natural radiating heat off of Garrett’s swollen, plump body.  
  
He let out a long breath he didn’t realize he was holding and carefully extracted himself, reaching down to peel the condom off. He realized that Garrett must have come as well, feeling the back of his hand brush against the cum smeared on the crest of his burgeoning belly. He tossed the condom in the wastebasket and inspired, hauled himself down to Garrett’s belly and started licking the salty ejaculate off him.  
  
“Mm,” Garrett moaned in surprise, pressing his belly forwards against Fenris’ hot mouth. He took more time than he needed to in his task, slowly lapping up the cum and sucking gently on the soft, vulnerable flesh. When he felt that he’d done a thorough enough job he finally leaned himself back, and for show, licked the back of his hand. Garrett looked like he was about ready to go for a second round at that.  
  
Fenris reached for Garrett’s belly and shook it appraisingly.  
  
“Seems like you have plenty of room,” he said lowly. “I’m guessing you haven’t had dessert?”  
  
“The rest of…tonight’s plan…” he said, still short of breath.

Fenris gave the side of his belly a firm slap and watched how it jiggled.  
  
“I’ll be back,” he said.  
  
When he got down to the kitchen he wasn’t sure what Hawke had intended to be dessert so he took the pie and ice cream, figuring that they at least paired well together. Before he went upstairs he remembered that he’d brought Sebastian’s brownies as well and grabbed the container from his bag. When he arrived back to Garrett’s room the mans eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“You don’t expect me to eat _all_ of that do you?”  
  
“I expect you to eat as much as you can.”  
  
“Will you eat the leftovers?”  
  
Fenris tilted his head, considering. He didn’t want to end up feeling the way he had the last few days.  
  
“Maybe, if there is any,” he decided. He didn’t have to stuff himself to the point of pain; that wasn’t what he was interested in, he realized.  
  
“Well, we’ll see if I’m actually willing to share,” Garrett said, smoothing a hand over the insistent curve of his belly. “But I don’t want you to go hungry either.”  
  
Fenris rolled his eyes, but returned to the bed, spoils in hand.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a bit of "bad influence" is just what you need.

The cake came out just as well as Sebastian promised. He made it in two layers with a chocolate avocado frosting and elected, as suggested, not to write “good work, dumbass” on it this time and instead went with the more conventional, “Happy 33rd birthday Garrett”.  
  
They’d known one another for ten years, which both made Fenris feel warm all over as well as a little shocked. The only person he’d known longer was Isabela. Well, known longer that he also liked. Izzy had sent a message in the group chat promising that she’d make up for her absence later and Fenris dropped the assurance that he’d need Garrett’s full attention for the night anyways. For the _later_ portion he made an additional single-layer cake, in the assumption that Garrett was more than likely going to shamelessly gorge himself at his birthday dinner _and_ have extra dessert. By time they made it back however, he was sure that Garrett would manage to find some room.  
  
For himself, Fenris still found himself non-committal to gaining weight intentionally the way that Garrett was, but wasn’t panicking and initiating any plans to stop it from happening. It’d only been a few days but the resolution to go the route of laissez-faire took off the pressure he was needlessly putting on himself. The point was of course, to enjoy their relationship as a whole, not the extra indulgence of this kink on its own. With some of the pressure off to be of one mind or the other, he thought that maybe, he was even actually enjoying the taste of his food and it wasn’t so tinged with guilt if he had a little extra.  
  
Still, watching as Garrett seemed to heedlessly fill well beyond need and then proceed to snack between meals he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious about the obvious pleasure he derived from it. It wasn’t just that Garrett was blowing past chubby to properly fat that was fascinating to Fenris it was the sheer joy he seemed to derive from being overindulgent. Of course, Garrett ate plenty of store-bought snacks, but he continued to make hearty meals of his own and was always eager to try new recipes. He was a good cook before but now, his body seemed eager to show his prowess with every new concoction that he made. His stomach billowed out proudly and his love handles, perhaps Fenris’ favourite feature, had burst out into two significant and significantly comforting handfuls. It wasn’t only his belly; his ass had filled out and created a eye-catching curve from the base of his back and the other day Garrett showed Fenris a pair of jeans that had blown at the thighs from chafing.  
  
Still, as much as he took pleasure in watching Garrett eat beyond capacity and to revel in the joy of that indulgence, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do the same. Sure, he was taking a little extra at meals and he ate what was offered to him but being constantly bloated to the brink interrupted his concentration on other responsibilities. He tried to explain his hesitancy as best he could to Garrett. But for Garrett it wasn’t a problem, he had just stroked a large thumb over the bit of softness that had nestled in on the lower part of his waist and said that he was in no rush; he’d be spoiling him just the same. Fenris couldn’t stop thinking about the tight feeling in his chest when Garrett said he’d spoil him or the hot coil of heat in his stomach as he realized he was less and less opposed to the idea of a little _spoiling_.  
  
That didn’t stop him from feeling mortified after realizing that Hawke had caught him rubbing his hand over his own distended stomach as they were only halfway through his birthday dinner. Leandra had plated for each of them and seemed to think that they were each starved to the brink. Merrill and Varric both looked between the plates and then to Hawke as though that might explain Garrett’s increasingly portly shape.  
  
The amount of food Garrett’s mother had made could only be described as unholy. She’d even ventured a little outside of her own vegan options into making sure that Garrett had some of his favourites; shepherds pie and pulled pork. Fenris was surprised that Leandra hadn’t said a word about her son’s sudden and rapid weight gain. Then again, Leandra was good like that; she rarely commented on anyone’s appearance. She was one of the few people who’d never asked him about his tattoos. If she had any opinions on Garrett’s rapidly expanding body, she didn’t share them. Fenris thought back to the sweater Garrett had worn that night at the Christmas market; the one that’d belonged to his father. Assuming is father hadn’t purposefully worn over-sized clothing as a fashion statement, maybe Leandra wasn’t so unused to the appetites of large men.  
  
“More wine, Fenris?” she asked, putting him in the same spot he always seemed to wind up during the family celebrations.  
  
“Just a little,” he said warningly. She poured, and it was not a little. Resigned to his fate he raised his glass to her and drank, waiting for the alcohol to either encourage him to eat more or for the tight feeling in his stomach to pass. He shifted in his seat; he’d certainly had too much to eat and he could feel the waist of his pants biting into him. While uncomfortable, it also had the unhelpful affect of being unrepentantly arousing. He took a deep breath; another mistake as it only made him feel how tight his pants were as they strained to contain his bloated stomach.  
  
They hadn’t even gotten to his cake yet. He’d sampled a bit of it when he leveled it and it hadn’t seemed off but without a proper bite he still wasn’t sure. Sebastian had texted earlier to double check if he needed the back-up cake and he almost wondered if he should have said yes, just in case. He reasoned that it would be overcomplicating things for nothing but now he wasn’t so sure, even with the wine.  
  
Once everyone, apart from Garrett who cleared his plate like it was nothing, had valiantly made it through their food they cleared the table to play Wicked Grace and wait for the meal to settle before dessert. Nonetheless, though dessert was pending, Leandra reappeared at the table with a glittering shawl draped over her shoulders and a rather unique looking fascinator pinned in her hair and set out another bowl of chips and plate of cookies. Fenris’ face twitched as a feather from her fascinator tickled his cheek.  
  
“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Merrill said, reaching up to stoke a feather between her fingers. “Did you make it? Could I commission you to make me one?”

Leandra glowed at the compliment.  
  
“I’ve been making them for the girls for our New Years party; I’ll make a few extra and you can pick one,” Leandra said. Merrill looked like she was about to teeter off her seat in excitement.  
  
They played a few quick hands, shifting the chips around as hands were won and lost; without Isabela cheating to shift the game, things were heavily skewed in Varric’s favour. Fenris was usually better at the game, but felt warm, overfed, drunk and atop it all preoccupied with the cake situation. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Merrill prodded his arm to prompt his turn. Once it’d passed, she leaned in to check if he was alright.  
  
“I’m fine,” he said. Merrill narrowed her gaze, unconvinced. She patted his knee, reassuringly. He was glad they were friends now and she should be to; before he would have found a way to make the comforting gesture a reason to squabble.  
  
He liked Merrill, eventually. It was a begrudged affection at first and then slowly that became genuine but sometimes when he still had to clamp down on his old habit of snapping back at her. He bumped their shoulders against one another instead and jerked his chin towards Varric.  
  
“He’s bluffing this time,” he muttered lowly. Merrill glanced pointedly at her already greatly diminished chip pile and whispered a thank-you back. Fenris focused on his own hand, trying to remember if he could make anything of it. Knowing that Varric was bluffing gave him a slight advantage. What he was supposed to win other than the satisfaction of having beaten the man at his most beloved game he wasn’t sure just yet. Admittedly, unless he was already winning, Fenris didn’t have a particularly outstanding competitive streak. Though, trying to improve his standings at present was a welcome distraction from the tightness of his stomach.  
  
A couple more hands passed and Merrill was already precariously on the edge of losing and announced that it was time for dessert so that she could regather her energy for a comeback. Fenris did not feel ready for either more food or presenting the first part of his gift to Garrett. If he didn’t like it, it’d put a dampener on the second round of his “gift”.  
  
“Merrill, would you help me in the kitchen, please?” he asked. He felt a little more tipsy than he’d like as he stood but kept his movements steady. Together they not so subtly departed the table and Fenris went to pull the cake out of the fridge while Merrill searched around the half-unpacked bags of snacks for the candles she’d bought.  
  
The cake looked fine, he decided. It was obviously homemade and not the way that Sebastian’s “homemade” baking and pastries looked, but that was the whole point.  
  
“This is lovely!” Merrill said, trying to keep her voice down. She’d had a bit more than she needed to drink as well and Fenris was sure that she didn’t realize just how loud she was actually speaking. “You made it sound like it was disaster.”

“It’s…not bad,” Fenris conceded, his voice, he hoped, significantly lower than Merrill’s. She pushed the candles into his hand.  
  
“You should do it; I don’t want to ruin your letters. Oh, where are the matches…”  
  
As Fenris carefully stuck the candles in a circle around the cake, Merrill blustered around for the matches. He didn’t put thirty-three in; it was never his intention to start a small inferno atop his hard work, but he put a generous ring around the letters. Considering that he was more inebriated than planned they weren’t quite as even as he’d like and when it came to lighting them and he very much appreciated Merrill’s assistance. Once they’d finished Merrill looked up at him, green eyes shining brightly.   
  
“We’re going to sing, right?”  
  
His heart sank. He’d forgotten about that but gave a tight nod. It’d be stranger to walk out and just present the cake without a little song and dance. Well, a dance would start pushing to the other side of strange. But he could sing happy birthday. Once he’d made the decision, he focused himself on holding the cake steady, not walking too fast and accidentally letting a flame go out and finally, singing. Merrill thankfully took the brunt of the last action item, entirely unconcerned with her shrill, off-key singing. A frightful contribution but one that detracted from his own low uttering attempt.  
  
He completely forgot to try as he came to placing the cake in front of Garrett, who was beaming widely at him. Thankfully by then Varric and Leandra had joined the chorus and dropping from a quartet to a trio wasn’t noticeable.  
  
“Ah…this is my contribution to the gift-giving,” Fenris said sheepishly, setting the cake down carefully.  
  
“You made this?” Garrett asked, eyes widening. “I thought you didn’t like baking?”  
  
“…I learned.”

Fenris didn’t think it was possible for Garrett’s grin to get brighter, but it did. He rested one large hand on Fenris’ hip and shook him gently. Being drunk, Fenris staggered a little as he kept his balance. He turned to look at the wall, feeling sheepish about his humble gift. He already knew what the others had each gotten for him and wondered if maybe he should have gotten something to go with it as well. He’d been so busy that it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He looked over to Leandra.  
  
“It’s vegan, by the way.”  
  
“Oh, you didn’t need to worry about me,” Leandra assured quickly. “Come on, boy, blow out the candles!”  
  
Garrett happily complied and with a great gust got nearly all of them out. Once he finished he pulled Fenris down and kissed him.  
  
“It’s perfect, darling.”  
  
“Mm, wait until later,” Fenris said softly.  
  
“I look forward to it,” Garrett said, happily.  
  
The cake went over fine. Better than fine. He’d really have to think of something nice to get for Sebastian for Christmas, or New Years. Whenever he managed to think of something equivalent to the ridiculous warm, tingling feeling he had in his chest watching Garrett and his friends enjoy his meagre attempt at being a gourmand of any manner. Reassured by their reactions, he felt like he could properly gauge it’s taste himself; it _was_ good. Sweet, yes, but not in the way that store-bought baking was. If he wasn’t already so full, he might have considered a little extra himself.

By time they got to planning on how to get back to his apartment, it was clear that they’d both had too much to drink; Fenris called a cab and felt sloppy with the way he was leaning heavily against the larger man on the small bench on Leandra’s porch. Or maybe sloppy with the way he had his hand perched protectively over the bulging curve of Garrett’s belly, rounded out and tight with all that he’d managed to stuff into it. He wanted to let himself sink further and put a messy kiss on it, but instead he pushed forward, nuzzling his nose in against Garrett’s throat. Garrett hummed, sounding pleased.  
  
“Eager?” he asked, turning in towards him, the crest of his belly pressing in against Fenris.  
  
“I’ve…had a lot of wine,” Fenris said. With his thumb he stroked the strip of skin that’d peaked out from underneath Garrett’s shirt at some point of his gluttony, dragging his fingernails underneath where it hung over his jeans. Garrett’s belly gave a little hop as he shivered at the delicate touch on his sensitive, stretched skin.  
  
“You look so huge,” Fenris said. “About to burst.”  
  
“Hm, honestly,” Garrett paused, _for effect_, the bastard. “I could eat some more.”  
  
“You can’t still be hungry.”  
  
“I haven’t been hungry for days,” Garrett agreed, palming underneath his own belly and giving it a heft up. Fenris bit his own lip, trying to keep his shit together and swore he was about to draw blood as Garrett let go and the soft layer of fat wobbled and fell back over his waistband. He tried to tug his shirt back down as it’d ridden up with the motion. “I’m just being greedy.”

If that fucking cab wasn’t going to get here soon, he was going to find himself tackling Garrett into the bushes in front of Leandra’s porch. The heat, as per usual, radiated off of Garrett, but he was warm and full with food and drink himself and the cool air was the only thing sobering him enough to make sure that he held back at least just a little until they got home.  
  
Mercifully, the cab did show before he got carried away. That didn’t help with getting into the back of the cab however and finding that when he got his seatbelt on that the strap over his hips made him excruciatingly aware of how far out his own stomach pooched out as the material was pushed underneath. He ran a hand over the little bulge and bit his lip again as he quickly set his hand on his own knee and gripped tightly. He felt almost too warm and like all his impulses were urging him to get his hands on either Garrett or himself. But he kept his shit together. He ignored the jostling of the vehicle as it made it’s way over the bumps on the road and how conscious it made him of his own overfilled belly and instead focused on the persistent, pleasant buzz he had from all the wine.  
  
Garrett quietly took his hand and held it between the seats, thumb caressing over his knuckles. Fenris, defences down, felt the affection wash over him in full and felt his heart twist a little the way it sometimes did when he was reminded of just how much he really, really adored this man whatever shape or size. He couldn’t quite look at the man and buried his face in his hand, staring with determination out the window.  
  
Once they arrived, he paid and stepped out carefully onto the road; careful in part because he’d definitely had more wine than he needed and secondly because the roads were legitimately slippery. Garrett stood waiting on the sidewalk, smirking as he watched Fenris slip and catch himself as the taillights pulled away.  
  
“You really need to get proper boots,” Garrett said, offering a hand and pulling him up onto the sidewalk. Fenris shrugged. He was about to say something back when he slipped again and locked his knees; the building maintenance had been sparing with the salt, leaving the walkways more precarious than they needed to be. Garrett’s hand held him up from behind and he sighed.  
  
“I’m also…very drunk,” he confessed.  
  
“Oh love, I know,” Garrett said, giving a light push forward. “You know I won’t think less of you if you say no to mother? She can be a menace.”  
  
“Generous menace,” Fenris said, laughing mostly to himself and yes, confirming that he was very much inebriated. Garrett chuckled, unworried and opened the door with his own key then herded him over to the elevator.  
  
“How are you not this drunk,” Fenris sighed, leaning back against the wall of the elevator.  
  
“Well, didn’t drink as much, I’m significantly larger than you and I ate way more food,” Garrett listed very sensibly. Fenris hated when he was more drunk than Garrett, namely because drunk Garrett differed extraordinary little from sober Garrett whereas when Fenris tipped over from pleasantly buzzed to _drunk_, he started to feel messy with just enough hubris to get himself into trouble. Oversharing? Yes. Exceedingly honest; absolutely. Less inhibited about the laundry list of anxieties he had over control and body image?  
  
Fenris looked down, poking his stomach out a bit further to accentuate the counter he was about to make.  
  
“I think I had my fair share,” he said pointedly. Garrett’s full attention zoned in on the painful looking curve of Fenris’s stomach and he moved closer to give an appraising stroke overtop. Fenris inhaled slowly, closing his eyes. With so many of his senses engaged he was feeling overwhelmed, but in the best way possible.  
  
“You certainly did well,” he said, sidling up beside him. “I’m a bad influence on you.”  
  
“You’re my favourite influence,” Fenris said breathlessly as Hawke leaned over to kiss him gently on the forehead. “All fifteen pounds of it.”  
  
Garrett stilled, intrigued.  
  
“Fifteen? Really?”  
  
Fenris gave a quick nod before giving Hawke a push towards the door opening to his floor. He moved past Garrett, despite still not having taken out his own key and could feel the man’s eyes on him as he followed behind.  
  
“Have you really gained that much?” Garrett said, sounding _insatiable_.  
  
“Why would I lie,” Fenris said, searching around his jacket pockets to find his key. Garrett gently shouldered him aside and got his key in the door.  
  
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly as though they were going to be overheard at nearly one in the morning over the party very clearly going on down the hall.  
  
“Right now?” Fenris said then paused, thinking about it. “Sexy.”

Garrett chuckled.  
  
“Well, can’t argue there.”  
  
“And what about this,” Fenris said, pressing their stomachs in against each other as he ushered them through the now open door. Garrett’s stomach always had a softness too it now and he could feel that his own strained, aching belly was hard against it. With one arm reaching out to close the door behind them and the other braced around his waist, Garrett shut the door.  
  
“This,” Garrett said, running his curled knuckles along the rounded side of his belly, “is gorgeous.”  
  
Fenris shivered a little.  
  
“I can’t—I wonder, ah,” Garrett faltered. Fenris opened his eyes and looked up, waiting for Garrett to continue. When he didn’t, he gave a light pinch over one of his increasingly generous love handles that bulged out the top of his jeans. Garrett squirmed but went on, if carefully. “I can’t wait to see it look this full all the time.”  
  
Fenris groaned, pressing his hips in close against Garrett and kneeing his thigh in-between his legs.  
  
“Full and _soft_,” he said before he gave a quick kiss. “And all your fault.”  
  
“You’d—you’re already fucking hot. But that? You’d look—”  
  
_“Spoiled.”  
  
_“Plump, comfortable,” Garrett went on, “I love seeing you relaxed.”  
  
“I trust you,” Fenris said, a bit breathlessly and non sequitur. He meant to say more and elaborate on the thought but Garrett had smothered him in a long, warm kiss. As they started to pull away, Fenris felt acutely aware of how uncomfortable his own pants were again now that he was home and not wearing them was an option. They felt uncomfortably tight and pinched around his waist and a quick brush of his own fingers around the waistband confirmed that they were biting in a little around the accumulating weight that’d settled around his hips. Fifteen pounds over what had been so consistently his average wasn’t much, but it was enough that he was glad he’d bought the size up in jeans when he’d first panicked. His stomach twisted at the thought another size up might be in order soon. Though the weight was considerably more gradual on him, the lack of concern on Garrett’s part did put him at ease with it. If anything, the extra attention right now made another fifteen seem if not likely, extremely desirable. He wanted to feel Garrett’s large hands over his softening flesh, to know what it felt like to feel pliant and loved up under his touch.  
  
They’d made it to the bed and faintly in the back of his mind, Fenris was perfectly aware that this was Garrett’s birthday and he’d meant to be spoiling him but as stubbled chin met with the sensitive flesh of his overstretched stomach along with reverent, soft kisses he couldn’t do anything but let himself melt into the touch. His limbs felt heavy and his head was swimming in an easy current. Garrett’s large hands over his hips was filling him with wild imaginings of the man not being able to so easily encompass his body. Laid back, he felt huge even as he glanced down and saw that the damage of the evening wasn’t all that evident. Strangely, that was enough to sober him, even Garrett moved to undo the button of his painfully pants. He pushed his hand away and cleared his throat.  
  
“I have…more of your birthday gift to give you,” he said.  
  
Garrett, looking flush himself and increasingly eager to simply continue with their foreplay paused.  
  
“I’m sure it can wait?”  
  
Fenris shook his head and started pulling himself out from underneath the man.  
  
“No, you’ll like it. Wait here.”

Fenris made his way carefully over to his kitchen, turning on the lights as he went. He opened the fridge and gingerly bent over to retrieve the last layer of the cake he’d made. He hadn’t piped any extra message onto this one and now regretted it. He shook his head; it didn’t matter. With more ease than he had in front of their family and friends, he hummed a bit as he came back into the bedroom. It wasn’t happy birthday, but it was a little more pomp and circumstance than he’d been able to muster up earlier in the evening. He came just short of saying, “ta da” as he gestured at the cake.  
  
Maybe he would exercise saying no to Leandra’s incessant wine plying in the future.  
  
“Ah, it’s literally more of my birthday gift,” Garrett said, grinning, leaning forward and pushing himself up off the edge of the bed. “It’s a really fucking good cake, Fenris.”  
  
Fenris used a finger to gather up some loose icing and licked it.  
  
“It actually is,” he agreed. “You should have seen the first one I made though.”  
  
“That bad?”  
  
“Something about overmixing the batter,” Fenris said, trying to forget. “I uhm…Garrett, it’s been—”  
  
Fenris made a frustrated noise; suddenly ruining the mood with his incapability to find an endearing way of saying what he wanted. He huffed a breath.  
  
“I love watching you get fat,” he said bluntly. “But all of this has been…your work. And maybe I want to make more of a…contribution.”  
  
Garrett was smiling which was good; telling him that he was getting fat never did quite the same for him as it did for Fenris. Getting fat to Garrett seemed to be more of a fact than anything else. It was words like, indulgence and greedy and _pig_ that got Garrett flustered. Garrett took the cake and set it on the dresser so that he could move closer. The bump of his stomach was the first thing to come into contact, of course, but Garrett’s fingers were gently drawing lines along the bloated edge of Fenris’s stomach again. Apart from his pants feeling too tight, Fenris noted that the bloating wasn’t actually painful and certainly not with the way Garrett was touching him so soothingly.  
  
“So, will there be more of your delicious baking endeavors to look forward to in the future?” Garrett asked. Fenris hadn’t really thought that far but the feeling of sinking in against the softness of Garrett’s belly was even more intoxicating than all the wine he’d drank that night and he quickly found himself nodding. The thought that it might continue to gradually add to his own thickening middle would just be…incidental.  
  
“If you’re willing to risk being my taste-tester.”  
  
“It would be an honour. My most daring adventure yet.”  
  
Fenris scoffed.  
  
“But for tonight—if you’re so willing—would you perhaps do me the honour of partaking in the last of this repast?”  
  
Fenris wrapped his arms around Garrett’s middle, letting his hands drift down over his ever widening rear as he feigned thoughtfulness. He might regret it in the morning, but he had a sense that he was already going to be regretting the wine more than anything else. If he had a stomach ache with it, that hardly seemed like much more to suffer.  
  
“A terrible influence,” he mused. “Do you really like the idea of seeing me all soft and pudgy that much?”

“Oh love, you have no idea.”  
  
Fenris gave a little jump forward as Garrett’s hand squeezed his ass as well. He hadn’t really taken any kind of bodily inventory of the extra weight he was starting to carry, but he swore it seemed like Garrett had more to grab at. He felt Garrett’s fingers go up slowly to the waist of his jeans and wiggle his fingers in. It was tight, of course.  
  
“Should we get you out of these?” Garrett asked, wiggling his fingers as best he could. “You’ve been squirming all night.”

“I have not,” Fenris said.  
  
“Oh? I don’t know Fen, they’re looking pretty tight. But if they’re fine, maybe you should just keep them on and show me how comfortable they stay with a few more pieces of this cake?”  
  
Fenris looked up at Garrett, reading his expression.  
  
“I made the cake for you,” he said hesitantly.  
  
“Mm hm, and it’s my birthday and maybe…I’d like to see just how much I can fill you up. I don’t enjoy anything as much as I enjoy spoiling you. Don’t worry, I’ll have some too. Just maybe…I’d like to feed you a little more.”  
  
“I think you feed me plenty.”  
  
“Do you like it?”  
  
“…yes.”  
  
“What do you like about it?”

Fenris felt breathless as he tried to keep up. What did he like about it? The attention, no doubt. But more than that he liked…not worrying. He liked that more or less of him, he never felt like he became either _for_ Garrett. It was for himself. He like the idea of being soft, as much as it scared him and made him feel guilty. He liked the idea of his belly getting thicker, of the fact that he was enjoying his spare time too much with Garrett instead of trying to maintain a image he didn’t choose for himself. He liked that it was _showing_. He liked how Garrett’s hands felt as they explored his body trying to figure out just where the extra weight was starting to settle. And now that it was there, it didn’t really overwhelm him as much. He’d thought maybe that the weight would feel burdensome and so far it didn’t and eventually he might notice it more but even then…it wasn’t as unsettling a thought as it had been.  
  
“It’s…liberating. I don’t feel like I have to be so…contained.”

Garrett looked relieved. Fenris narrowed his gaze.  
  
“What?”

Garrett was struggling to look at him, looking suddenly nervous.  
  
“I’m just…I get nervous about this. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything just because I’m the one getting carried away.”

“You’re getting carried away? Garrett, I learned how to_ bake_. You know that I don’t know shit about cooking. And gaining a little, or a lot, of weight isn't the end of the fucking world.”  
  
At that, Garrett laughed and it was all warm and relieved. Satisfied, Fenris pushed him back on the bed and started to undress him. When he got to himself he took off his shirt then stopped before he started to unbutton his jeans.

“What do you think? Keep the pants on or take them off?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving purple lipstick.

They borrowed Leandra’s car and met Isabela at the airport. Izzy knew and had seen plenty enough documentation in regard to Garrett’s weight gain but she still had to do a double-take when she actually saw him. Capturing exactly what sixty pounds heavier looked like through meagre phone photos couldn’t prepare her for what it actually looked like in person.  
  
“You are truly…fat,” Isabela said, grinning by time she got through the sentence. She handed off her carry-on and Fenris nearly dropped it, not expecting it to be so heavy. He heard the tinkling of glass and realized that Isabela had taken advantage of the tax-free liquor. Smart.  
  
He watched as she placed both hands on each side of Garrett’s belly and gave an appraising look. When she trailed her long, acrylic nails along the sides Fenris smirked as he saw the whole of his immense belly give a little hop.  
  
“Ticklish,” Garrett said. He tried to swat her away but she had already grabbed a good couple inches of flesh between her fingers and gently pinched.

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “You look amazing.”  
  
“And you,” Garrett said as he scooped her up into her arms. “Have no sense of boundaries.”  
  
Izzy laughed, trying to pull herself free though to no avail. Garrett held her with the same ease as he ever had and seemed reluctant to let her down. Her back curved out from where she was perched over his belly and Fenris rushed forward to come behind her, gently taking the edges of her dress while trying to balance the bag he was suddenly responsible for.  
  
“Nice underwear,” he said, giving a firm tug down to try and cover her back up.  
  
“Oh, yes, aren’t they good? There’s this shop that makes them custom in Val Royeaux. They do some excellent lingerie for men as well, if you’re still into that sort of thing.”  
  
Garrett cleared his throat loudly and Fenris made a mental note to ask if _he_ was into that sort of thing.  
  
As she slid back down Garrett’s front the short skirt rode up more than he could manage to help but she didn’t seem bothered. After a brief but unhurried adjustment she stepped back again and gave Garrett’s belly a fond pat, as though promising more adoration later. Finally, she turned to Fenris and gave him a wide grin.

“Dove,” she started. “It’s been too long.”

He set down the bag so that he could give her a proper hug, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight. He felt her sigh against his neck and he curled in tighter around her. She smelt of something fresh and expensive and he pulled back to kiss her on the forehead.  
  
“I missed you,” he said.  
  
“Of course you did. Though it looks like you’ve been having fun anyways,” she replied. For a moment Fenris was worried that she was about to give his gently softening stomach an appraisal as well, but she did nothing of the sort.  
  
Besides, there truly was so much more to inspect on Garrett. He’d seen Garrett nearly every day since he’d started gaining weight but Isabela was faced with piecing together the photos and group chat messages with the actual person and she seemed positively delighted by it, cooing and affectionately touching nearly every change that she’d noticed. Fenris might have felt jealous if he thought he had anything to worry about.  
  
The moment they arrived at his apartment, they ordered food and Isabela was already opening up a bottle of wine. Fenris felt his stomach knot for a moment when he saw what brand it was, knowing full well how much it cost, but before he could say anything in protest Izzy was pushing a glass into his hand and told him to stop looking so sour.  
  
“I haven’t seen you boys since last Christmas so we are _not_ going to be fucking around with the cheap stuff. Here, I got this one too; go stash it for a special occasion,” she said, handing him another bottle. He didn’t dare look at the label for this bottle and went to go hide it in the back of the linen closet. When he came back out into the living room, Izzy was luxuriating in the arm chair, dress once again at danger of riding up higher than it was meant to. Her tattooed thigh looked as thick as ever but Fenris noted that she looked like she’d been spending a lot of time in the gym. She looked like she was ready for a brawl. Which was good, considering she was more than likely to find one in Kirkwall.  
  
“How’s Seb treating you?” she asked. He took a seat beside her on the adjacent sofa, leaning back into Garrett.  
  
“He’s good,” Fenris said. “Er—almost too good. Was he always so…”  
  
“Deplorably magnanimous and always seeming to verge on being condescending but never in a way that you’re ever actually really worried about?”  
  
Fenris snorted, but nodded.  
  
“I knew him back when he was fun,” she went one. “Ask him about the night we made slingshots back in Starkhaven.”  
  
“You knew him from when he was younger?”  
  
Isabela grinned wickedly.  
  
“Oh, of course.”  
  
They chatted for a while as they waited for the delivery to arrive. Catching up with Izzy was always easy. Even though they messaged nearly every day, she always seemed to manage to get into enough trouble that she’d have new stories to tell each time they saw her. It wasn’t in his nature to feel relaxed, but as the conversation and liquor continued to flow he felt positively ecstatic and by time the food actually arrived and he’d migrated over to sitting in her lap as Garrett animatedly tried to explain the ridiculous attack maneuver his character had attempted in their last session of DnD. She would be joining their games of course, while she was in town, so it was in part to get her up to speed on how she could come rescue his idiot character.  
  
When the food arrived, Garrett went down because Fenris was struggling to stop laughing; a rare thing that only really happened when Isabela was around. He swore in Tevene, though there was none of the usual venom with it.  
  
“What stats did Varric even make him roll for?” Isabela asked.  
  
“Hm, dexterity and charisma I think,” Fenris said, wiping at his face. He’d been laughing so hard that his eyes were tearing up. He couldn’t even recall the last time that happened. “He did not roll well, hence the…predicament we now find ourselves in.”  
  
“Well, maybe if you all stopped treating the brothel like a library for all nefarious deeds there’d be less reason to have to interrogate a homicidal contortionist.”  
  
“It’s always something; Varric must keep a list of ludicrous brothel scenarios.”  
  
“Hm, likely and titillating.”  
  
Isabela reached and set her empty glass around behind him then placed her hand on his hip.  
  
“How are you dove?” she asked. This time she expected a serious and honest answer. They hadn’t talked much since his last telephone meltdown, so he supposed it was only fair that she’d want to follow up.  
  
“This is what the expensive booze was for, wasn’t it,” he accused.  
  
She smoothed her hand down his thigh and gave his knee a gentle pat.  
  
“My interrogation methods are renowned, it’s your own fault for falling for it.”  
  
Fenris let out an exaggerated sigh and tipped his head back, thoughts swimming as he did so. Drinking on an empty stomach was going to be the death of him. When he drew himself back up he furrowed his brow as he tried to assemble his answer. He brushed back a stray strand of hair off of Isabela’s forehead and admired the warm brown of her eyes and how she’d framed them with a golden eyeshadow.  
  
“What mascara did you use?” he asked.  
  
“Fenris,” she said warningly.  
  
“Do my face later,” he said. “And…I’m doing better.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“_Yes._ Can you…is it obvious?”  
  
Isabela raised an eyebrow and gave him a shake.  
  
“That you’ve gained weight? No, not really. Even though you’ve been sitting on me for the last twenty minutes, you clingy thing. Is Garrett not touching you enough? Maybe you need—”

“We don’t need a threesome, Izzy.”  
  
“Spoil sport. Anyways, the only thing I noticed was that for once in your life you have the teensiest bit more of a butt to grab onto and it’s been driving me mad knowing that you won’t let me,” she pouted. “You never had a butt when we were sleeping together.”  
  
Fenris snorted.  
  
“I _sincerely_ apologize for the deficiency.”  
  
“Well, you had the good sense to make up for it in other ways, so you’re forgiven.”  
  
Fenris wanted to talk about it a bit more, seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be nearly as awkward as he felt about it, but Garrett was coming back up through the door with three huge bags.  
  
“Izzy…how much is it that you think I eat exactly?” Garrett said accusingly.  
  
“Kitten, it’s a night for revelry and I’m tired of my diet,” she said, pushing Fenris off. “Pour me another glass and let’s eat.”  
  


* * *

  
  
They _did not_ make it to Garrett’s that night. By time they even thought to make plans to leave they were both far too drunk to drive, Fenris had half his face done up in Izzy’s make-up and Garrett had predictably eaten himself to the very edge of consciousness. This did not lead to the threesome Isabela so fervently wished for, but it did leave the three of them sprawled in a mess of pillows and blankets not on the bed, but on the floor, drinking and watching _Love Actually_. The apartment was well-soundproofed but when Izzy started trying to imitate Liam Neeson’s accent and he found himself laughing so hard he was nearly to tears, Fenris did try to reign them all back in. Once he could breathe, anyways. Which, was difficult considering how much food and drink he was filled with.  
  
Soon enough, it was nearly four am they were huddled together and had gone on to watching _My Best Friend’s Wedding. _Isabela had taken the task of rubbing Garrett’s full belly with a surprisingly platonic level of care that really shouldn’t have been arousing at all. The thing about a threesome with Isabela was that it would be nearly too easy to instigate and for that reason especially, Fenris had been tremendously reluctant to ever agree to it. For Garrett it was simply his tragic inability to find women sexually attractive, but seeing out of the corner of his eye the look of deep satisfaction as Izzy’s hand gently rubbed circles around his proudly puffed up gut, it didn’t seem so out of the realm of possibility anymore.  
  
“I always forget that there are musical bits in this,” Isabela mused. Fenris looked over and tried not to think about how much bigger Garrett’s belly looked in her smaller hands. He took another sip of his drink, trying to smudge the thought out around the edges.  
  
“It’s surreal,” Garrett agreed. “Fenris, if we ever get married I promise I will only make you quit one of your jobs.”  
  
Fenris scoffed, watching as Cameron Diaz explained with a grin that she wasn’t going back to school after the wedding.  
  
“Don’t worry, after this I’m sticking to just the one.”  
  
“Hm, so you say. Actually, I hardly get to see my boyfriend and it’s your fault,” Garrett said, shaking Izzy lightly.  
  
“Me? He’s the one who said yes and getting a pretty stack of coins for it, is he not?”  
  
Fenris shifted, turning on his side and wrapping an arm around Garrett. He ignored the feeling of his own full stomach pressing in against Garrett’s wide side as best he could. But Maker, was Garrett ever getting wide, his sides still soft despite the full, bloated look he was sporting up front.  
  
“And a vacation, don’t forget.”  
  
Garrett turned to look at him, eyes glittering in the dark. He squinted.  
  
“I forgot you had make-up on. You look so cute.”  
  
“Excuse me, he looks deadly, I think you mean,” Isabela corrected. “I like to call this look, ‘to-eat-a-man’s-heart-whole’.”

Fenris got up on his elbow to look over Garrett.  
  
“Are we going out for New Years? I want you to do the same make-up for me.”  
  
“Sweetest, you really need to learn to do it for yourself.”  
  
“I’ll pay more attention this time.”  
  
“Oh, we haven’t been dancing for ages,” Garrett piped in.  
  
Fenris settled back down, keeping his face back and trying not to smudge Isabela’s work. Not that they were going anywhere but he wanted to take a look at it again before he went to sleep and completely fucked it up.  
  
“I’m going to need new pants by then,” Fenris whispered lowly into Garrett’s ear. He felt Garrett tense up underneath him and even through the flickering light of the movie could see that he was glaring at him.  
  
“Tease,” Garret hissed.  
  
Fenris pressed his own bloated belly in closer, relishing in how the softness of Garrett’s side moulded around him. Garrett shifted uncomfortably and Isabela rose up on the other side of him to glare at Fenris.  
  
“Excuse me, please stop harassing my pillow.”  
  
“He’s a bully,” Garrett confirmed.  
  
“Now, now, play nice, the movie is almost over,” Izzy admonished and continued tracing shapes with her acrylic nails over Garrett’s immensely stuffed belly. They’d all eaten more than enough but between himself and Izzy, encouraging Garrett to go further than he would on his own had been easy. Fenris bit his lip; maybe Izzy just found it fun, but for him it’d been hard to fight back his arousal. The “no threesome” rule actually did feel a bit infringed upon, however unintentional. He was pretty sure that Isabella didn’t have a gaining kink; her enthusiasm seemed more focused on how it made them happy. That and despite her own often yo-yoing weight he realized that she really didn’t consider fat as a negative. It made him wonder where he was in that; he’d been so alarmed by the weight he’d gained.

He didn’t have the energy to think about where shame and arousal met with ethics at the moment but made a mental note to come back to the thought later.   
  
Fenris yawned and turned back onto his back, hand splaying across his own belly. He had said it only to tease, but at this rate he really was going to need some new pants. God, why was he still wearing pants? He worked his thumb in under the waistband and tried to figure out what underwear he had on and deciding that seeing as they were more modest boxer-briefs that he was absolutely fucking done with pants for the day and started working at getting the button undone.  
  
“Are you being obscene over there?” Isabela asked curiously.  
  
“I’m taking off my pants,” Fenris said. The button came undone and he tried not to sigh too loudly in relief as he felt the pressure loosen up. He paused. “Unless you want to try and get to your place?”  
  
“Ugh no, let’s sleep here.”  
  
“We aren’t all going to fit on the bed.”  
  
“We’ll be fine here,” Isabela said through a yawn.  
  
Satisfied with the arrangement as much as he was sure he’d regret sleeping on the floor whenever they managed to wake up the next morning, Fenris shimmied off his pants then got up to brush his teeth before the final scene of the movie.

* * *

  
  
Fenris winced as he worked himself out of bed; sure enough, sleeping on the floor had been shit for his back and he’s woken up probably a few hours after and gingerly hauled himself into his actual bed. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d laid flat on his back but he’d fallen asleep slightly twisted, curled in next to Garrett. No threesomes and no sleeping on the floor. Some rules were worth having.  
  
He sighed and decided to lay in the stillness of the morning a little while longer. Out in the kitchen he could hear Garrett bustling around and cooking, the smell of coffee wafting in over to him. Eventually, it was enough to coax him to give another try at getting out of bed. Once he’d worked himself up to a seated position he pressed a palm against his head, cradling the hangover that’d lodged itself in his skull.  
  
Before fully pushing himself up off the bed he couldn’t help but look down. His stomach was still slightly bloated the night before and pushed forwards in his seated position, looking especially rounded. Even when he was empty, even when he was standing, his stomach had a smoothed over look now. Gently he prodded at the little lip of soft skin that was pushing over the edge of his boxers and bit his lip. He was doing and feeling better about it but it still…felt unfamiliar. Passing his palm over the curve he thought that it felt…pleasant. But he wasn’t sure that it felt like _him_, exactly.  
  
Experimentally, he pushed his stomach out as far as he could and felt the way it filled in his hand. It wouldn’t be so bad. Even pushed out like this, he wouldn’t be anywhere near as large as Hawke. He moved his hand down to his thigh and gave a squeeze; softer. Before he’d been so lean that there really wasn’t any flesh to have his fingers sink into but now there was enticing, thin layer of softness covering over him. It might not take all that much more for his thighs to start touching. His jeans were already noticeably tighter and caught whenever he went to pull them up. He had to suck in to button.  
  
His chest felt tight and his back have another painful twinge again as he felt himself locking up. A mixture of heat and guilt washed over him and he couldn’t parse out which one would win if he let himself dwell on it.  
  
When he stood up, he started slowly going through the stretches that the chiropractor had shown him. Whatever happened, he supposed that he would have to be a bit careful about how much weight he gained for the sake of his health; if he got carried away it was going to be shit for his back. Considering how much food and sex had become intertwined now, he knew that he was going to pick up at least a few more pounds. It didn’t scare him as much as it did before. In fact, he kind of looked forward to it. As he settled into the idea, he was settling into the curiosity he had about experiencing his body in a different way.  
  
By time he’d gotten through his stretches, a greasy post-hangover breakfast was laid out on the table and the dishes from the previous night already done. Isabela seemed no worse for wear and was chatting away with Garrett who also seemed largely unaffected by the previous night. Fenris squinted and tried to think back on exactly how much he might have drank and as he tallied it up realized that he’d definitely had more than either of them. He felt a wash of annoyance at himself.  
  
Garrett said nothing, just gently kissed his temple and set a mug of coffee in front of him. Of course he already knew.

He looked up from his coffee when he heard Isabela laugh. She gestured over her own face.  
  
“The make-up is all a mess. Did you take a picture before you went to sleep at least?”  
  
Fenris raised a hand to wipe away at his mouth and as he drew it back, true enough the dark purple lipstick came off on the back of his hand. He sighed.  
  
“Do you have make-up remover?”  
  
Isabela snapped a photo on her phone and he scowled.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Mum wants us to bring Isabela over for dinner tonight,” Garrett said. Fenris tried not to groan. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Leandra he just didn’t want to see Leandra and her store of homemade wine in conjecture with Isabela’s supply of tax-free booze.  
  
“Does she need us to go shopping?” he asked instead.  
  
“Seeing as we were too indisposed to return the car last night, the lady of the house has indeed texted a grocery list,” Garrett said cheerfully. “Each item is in a separate text.”  
  
Fenris wasn’t sure exactly what it was that nudged him in that moment but as he was listening and reaching for the jam to put on his French toast and his abundant serving of bacon, he figured it’d be pointless to resist whatever food was put in front of him over the holidays.  
  
“I know we’re not done eating here, but I was thinking that a late lunch at that restaurant we like in high town would be nice? I’ve been craving that ‘vint rice thing,” Isabela said, already searching it up on her phone.  
  
These two, he decided, were the absolute worst influences in his life. And he loved them very much even if it meant buying a few new pairs of pants as their enthusiastic embrace of hedonism pulled him in.  
  


* * *

  
  
By the end of the night Fenris felt his resigned resolve put to the test once again as his stomach was filled to the very brink of capacity. This time they did make it home, deciding to take a cab to Garrett’s just after midnight. In a perfect replication of the previous night, Fenris was well aware that he’d probably only been matched by Leandra in terms of alcohol consumption. It didn’t feel quite so severe though this time because while he’d had just as much booze, he’d also had significantly more food. Really, an impossible amount of food. He could feel how his stomach was stretched painfully. It was confounding to him that he’d even managed to get himself from one point to the other without the button bursting. And just as mystifying was the thought that hardly a month ago he’d struggled with just the feeling of being full, never mind the distinct possibility that reaching the capacity to eat himself out of his own clothes might not be far off.  
  
He laughed as he stumbled in through the door of Garrett’s house.  
  
“You,” he said, pushing Garrett gently against the wall. “Need to cut me off after two glasses next time.”  
  
“Two?” Garrett asked.  
  
“…three,” Fenris amended.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Fenris took a deep breath, letting his hands drift down over Garrett’s stomach in between them.  
  
“You’re really getting big,” he said, smoothing a hand over the delicious curve reverently.  
  
“You still like it?”  
  
“Mm, so much.”  
  
Fenris reached into his pocket.  
  
“I stole Izzy’s lipstick.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Fenris gave his head a little shake, realizing what a non-sequitur that was. He frowned and strung his thoughts back together.  
  
“I want to kiss this,” Fenris gave a gentle squeeze on the soft flesh of Garrett’s underbelly for emphasis, “while wearing it and then I want to take a picture. If that’s okay.”  
  
Garrett laughed.  
  
“That’s very cute and very specific.”  
  
“I haven’t worn make-up in a while,” Fenris said. “The second I had it on all I wanted to do was cover your ridiculous belly with it.”  
  
Garrett nudged him back with said belly. Fenris still clung lightly to his sides, gently holding onto the thick love handles on his sides. He let go just enough so that only his fingertips were touching and raked them lightly over the heavy curve of his stomach the way he’d seen Isabela do at the airport. He’d wanted to do that the moment he’d seen it as well. Garrett gave the same little jerk at the light touch. Garrett had his hands on his hips and was guiding him back, his interest apparently piqued.  
  
“Well, you have my express permission to proceed,” Garrett said.  
  
Fenris traced his finger gently under the softest part of Hawke’s stomach where it peaked out from underneath his shirt.  
  
Garrett swore lowly under his breath and started half fumbling out of his jacket before realizing they still had their shoes on. In a pained huff he reoriented himself and started with his boots. Fenris smirked and followed suit.  
  
Fenris felt the hum of all the wine he’d drank still coursing warmly through him, though it wasn’t with the same intensity as when they’d left Leandra’s; enough that he could passably paint his lips the same way Izzy had the night before. Painting within the lines proved a challenge but nothing he couldn’t overcome with patience. By time he’d managed it properly, Garrett had had time enough to check on the dog out in the back and settle himself up in his room—with a snack. Fenris nodded towards the pint of ice cream he knew full well that Garrett intended to finish in one sitting.  
  
“I’m impressed,” he said.  
  
“Honestly,” Garrett said, bracing one side of his belly, rounded out before him and sagging low. “I am too. I’m not hungry, mind, but I feel like I can pinpoint the moment that there’s just enough room for a more.”  
  
Fenris, already down to just his briefs crawled his way across the bed, stopping just in front of Garrett’s significant belly and gently pushing his thick thighs wider. Without trying, he was flush against the stuffed belly bowed out before him, the feeling of his own bloat not lost on him as he leaned into the burgeoning softness. From the bottom-most curve he trailed his fingers up until they met the hem of Garrett’s shirt. It came down just over his belly button but showed a deep divot. The sides clung desperately to the soft flesh that bulged out over top chunky thighs.  
  
“I don’t know how you manage it,” Fenris said, gently tugging the shirt up over the crest of Garrett’s belly. His stomach was littered in stretchmarks now, hard to see in places where his hair was denser but undeniable, large and streaking. They’d done a better job of rubbing lotions on it now to try and ease the itching but it was evident that they weren’t going away. Fenris liked them. He’d never thought much about them before. Now it was impossible to ignore with the way they were so rapidly appearing on Garrett’s belly, thighs, love handles and recently even by his nipples. All evidence of just how truly dedicated he was to this seemingly endless mission towards getting fatter and fatter, his own skin unable to keep up with his pace.  
  
Fenris slipped both hands under Garrett’s belly and lifted it gently, kneading the soft, doughy flesh almost pensively.  
  
“This is getting so damned heavy,” he said. Garrett hummed around a mouthful of ice cream and nodded.  
  
“Feels heavy. I’ve _really_ started to notice it,” he said. “The buttons on my work shirts are hanging on for dear life.”  
  
_“All_ your clothes are hanging on for dear life,” Fenris said and meaning it. “We should probably get you some new things soon. I’d say I can’t believe how fat your ass is getting but…”  
  
Fenris gestured at the ice cream. Eyeing the label more closely it was a flavour he knew to be on the higher side of calories for that brand. Taking his inspection as a look of interest, Garrett held up a spoonful for him. At this point, being offered a few bites in bed felt natural and Fenris closed his mouth around it without hardly thinking. Garrett paused, sticking the spoon in the container to free up a hand and used it to run a thumb down the bowed out line of Fenris’ own stomach.  
  
“You’re getting a pretty good appetite yourself,” he said quietly. Truthfully, Fenris was still uncertain about if he really wanted the commentary at all. He tried to lean into; literally, letting his stomach press into Garrett’s touch. “Does it still bother you to be this full? I can intervene on Mother’s portions.”  
  
“Not really,” Fenris admitted. “I wouldn’t enjoy it all the time but…with you, it’s nice.”  
  
“And with Izzy,” Garrett said. “I forgot how voracious that woman’s appetite is for _everything_. By time she goes home we’re all going to be carrying a little extra.”  
  
“Well,” Fenris said, patting Garrett’s bulging thigh. “Some a little more than others.”  
  
“You love it.”  
  
“You absolutely know that I do.”  
  
“I love it for you too. You…you’ve relaxed a lot lately, Fen.”  
  
Fenris took another offered scoop of the ice cream then frowned, remembering that he was wearing lipstick and likely fucking it up.  
  
“Are you saying that I wasn’t relaxed before?”  
  
Garrett hesitated and Fenris rolled the too sweet, too savoury treat on the inside of his mouth as he waited. No, sweet was still not really his thing.  
  
“Uhm, well…okay,” Garrett said, actually setting the ice cream aside on the bed stand and straightening up. “You feeling sober enough to talk for a second or should we continue to languish?”  
  
Fenris sighed.  
  
“Obviously I’d prefer to languish over talking about my feelings, but, I love you. What’s on your mind.”  
  
“Okay, well…you’ve always been pretty high-strung.”  
  
Fenris tried not to flinch at that, given that it was an a well-earned descriptor.  
  
“And that has never stopped me from being exceptionally fond of you,” Garrett added quickly. “But…I guess I was a little worried since we started dating for real this time that uhm…I don’t know. I—”  
  
“Please tell me,” Fenris said, feeling a wave a dread push up through him.  
  
“No, it’s not a big deal, and honestly it was mostly just my own…anxious stuff, but until we kind of ah…started doing this whole thing I sort of wondered uhm…if you just said yes to dating me because it was the easiest thing to do?”  
  
Fenris started backing up.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“No—I, oh, this is…okay, would you say that the only thing that was _really_ different about us dating at first was that we started having sex? Like we were doing pretty much all the couple-y things before without really even meaning to and maybe you or I would more likely go home at the end of the night and things, but effectively we already really…_really_ cared about each other a lot and telling people that we’re dating now was—”  
  
“Garrett, I think I know what you’re saying,” Fenris said. He tipped back into a cross-legged position on the bed, ignoring how it felt different with his stomach poking out the way that it was because apparently, they’d managed to stumble into a serious conversation.  
  
“I just mean I’d love you with or without sex,” Garrett blurted. “And with or without this kink or…everything. I’d love you anyways like…you’re the one for me. The person who’s always going to be everything.”  
  
Now Fenris felt a heat creep up the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected any heavy confessions and especially not sat here with his gradually softening belly poking out while bedecked in purple lipstick while a container of ice cream melted on the bed stand. Confessions like that belonged somewhere else. Like in fantasy novels where at least one of them have a sword and there’s some sort of unspeakable calamity about to befall the whole of the world.  
  
He felt _achingly_ sober now, the buzz of wine completely fucking gone and he kind of hated it. He took in a deep breath.  
  
“You’re thinking about the first time we had sex and I had a panic attack afterwards.”  
  
“Uhm. Yeah. And Izzy took you to the hospital and they gave you that prescription and then the counselling and then a different prescription because the other one just made you kind of…absent…and I guess I’ve still always felt guilty about that. And uhm…a little afraid of it happening again.”  
  
“You can’t be afraid of that,” Fenris said sharply. He cleared his throat. “I mean, if you’re always worried about that I’m going to know on some level.”  
  
“_Yes,”_ Garrett agreed, “exactly. And okay, I…I wondered if maybe it felt like before we started doing this that you…_knew _that I was worried somehow because you’re just spooky good at knowing me and maybe that’s kind of why it always felt like you were holding back? A bit? Whenever we had sex?”  
  
“I—”  
  
“It’s okay! I’ve just…it’s been on my mind. I’m not trying to therapize you but uhm, since you’ve been partaking a little more, I just want to make sure you don’t feel uhm…like sex is the thing that has to make a relationship with me? I think? Is what I’m getting at?”  
  
Fenris was of two minds towards this conversation. The first was that he found it incredibly fucking annoying because despite how hard it was to have sex and be relaxed with it, he did somehow by all miracles still actually enjoy it. A lot. Even when he couldn’t entirely be relaxed about it.  
  
The second notion he had was that Garrett was genuinely doing his best at being honest because he knew that was important to Fenris. It was important in general, but it was _crucial_ to Fenris.  
  
He curled his hands around his ankle and leaned back slightly. He couldn’t hate Garrett for bringing this up now; that was the beautiful thing about Garrett. He never put off anything “for the right time” if it was important to him. Even if it meant that through most of the conversation you were sitting there with a fucking boner. Such is life.  
  
“Maybe I did hold back on really…_being_ with you during sex, at first,” Fenris admitted. “Being with you isn’t like being with anyone else; sex can be just sex but it’s not like that with you. It’s more. That panic attack back then; that was going to happen eventually over _something_. I just wish it wasn’t then. It wasn’t about you; the only other time I’ve felt that intensity of emotion while having sex with someone was with Danarius. But that was never with love. It was just pure…hatred. I don’t even know if you can call what he’d do—anyways. I love you more than I have ever hated him. But at the time it was…overwhelming. I felt like I had to…rewrite my body, if I was ever going to be with someone I loved and reconciling that at the time was…not within my ability. Does that make sense?”  
  
“Uhm. Well, considering that you’ve at least on one occasion narrowly missed being charged with manslaughter when it comes to Danarius, I do really like the part about you loving me more than you’ve ever hated him. Because wow, Fen, that’s uhm. A lot.”  
  
Fenris snorted.  
  
“I have sex with you because I like to. I love you because you’re _my_ person. I’m getting…a little _chubby_ because you are _spoiling_ me.”  
  
Garrett reached out towards him as best he could over the enormous swell of his belly, but Fenris made up for the remaining distance and let Garrett pull him up over him.  
  
“I don’t think you’ve earned ‘chubby’ just yet,” Garrett said.  
  
“Earned?”  
  
“You think being this fat is easy?” Garrett challenged, rucking his hips upwards. “I’ll have you know that it takes the most extreme and dedicated of training.”  
  
“I can’t really argue with that seeing as I think if I ate as much as you I might vomit,” Fenris said blandly.  
  
“Exactly. This is not a feat meant for every man.”  
  
“And not every man is meant to see his feet.”  
  
Garrett let out a low groan.  
  
“Oh, it is so rare for you to sink to my level of punning. I see why it hurts. Mark it on the calendar, we’ll have an anniversary sex party for it next year.”  
  
Some part of Fenris wanted to question the idea that they’d still be together in a year but he bit it back. He wanted them to be together until they fucking _died_ because Garrett was going to be _his person_ whether they were together or not. He agreed to trying again with Garrett because he knew, finally, that he could make it on his own without imploding his own life. He rested his hands over Garrett’s broad, soft chest and set his chin down over his folded fingers.  
  
“So, how much more weight do you think I’d have to gain to _earn_ being chubby?” he asked.  
  
Garrett’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Fenris smirked; though his own gain was marginal at best, being able to turn the tables on Garrett again was fun. Garrett slid his hands down over his back and cupped his ass, giving an evaluating squeeze.  
  
“I don’t know,” he mused. “I’d say at _least_ ten more. But you’re kind of tall too; maybe fifteen? Twenty to be safe.”  
  
“Twenty?” Fenris asked. He tried to imagine it, how he’d fill out. Twenty more pounds would put him closer to 200 than he could ever have imagined. He_ hadn’t_ ever imagined that. Would he like it? The little softness that’d begun to gather on the lower part of his stomach wasn’t even enough to jiggle yet. He could pinch it and it was more malleable, but he felt the weight more in the tightness of his jeans around his thighs. He liked the defiant, puffed up look of Garrett’s almost perfectly spherical belly and wasn’t sure if he’d like the kind of pear-shaped disposition even the slight gain was already suggesting for himself.  
  
But it wasn’t really the shape alone that interested him. He pushed himself up off of Garrett so that he could give a cursory investigation of what he’d already managed to put on and tried not to give himself away as he felt the softness of his thighs spread out in his kneeled position. Looking down, he gave himself a gentle prod; he was bloated right now but in the morning it’d go back to the soft, gentle curve outwards. The curve that had started to distort Danarius’ tattoos and change the lines of that painfully mapped prison. He liked _that_. Absolutely.  
  
But he also wasn’t in any rush. Not the way Garrett was. Garrett had _goals_. He really did just enjoy letting himself relax.  
  
“I guess we’ll find out if you keep spoiling me,” he settled. Before Garrett could say anything, he turned his attention to the swollen, packed mass of flesh in front of him. He started rubbing it gently and watched as Garrett slumped his shoulders back down and eased into the touch. Fenris felt that he’d been a bit negligent throughout Garrett’s gaining, in part because so much of it took place while he wasn’t around. He didn’t regret taking the extra job but it did mean that the last few months left him feeling like his time was spread thin.   
  
“You should keep eating,” Fenris said, jerking his chin towards the ice cream melting on the bedstand. Garrett happily took up the container again and started spooning the cold treat into his mouth again. He paused after a second, realizing that it’d melted faster than anticipated and paused to drink the soupy overflow. Important conversations aside, Fenris watched as Garrett swallowed with rapt attention.  
  
Garrett worked away at the ice cream at a leisurely place which Fenris returned in kind with his careful, purple stained ministrations. Having suddenly so much less work to do for the time being really did allow him to languish with his _fat_ boyfriend. Garrett grunted and groaned lasciviously as he eagerly inched himself further on his back and more fully into Fenris’ hands and against his mouth. It was excessive, in every way, but Fenris had no doubt that eating was symptomatic of Garrett’s happiness more than it was of anything else.  
  
As he kneaded out a spot that seemed maybe especially tight, Garrett gave a low belch that he covered daintily with a closed hand as it came up.  
  
“That’s it, make some more room,” Fenris encouraged. Garrett looked down at him, pupils blown out and looking dazed. The limited time they’d had together hadn’t left a lot of room to really explore the language to use in these situations but Fenris was trying to be more…engaged.  
  
“I think I’m reaching my limit,” Garrett said.  
  
Fenris took a tight breath, knowing what he wanted. Though he knew that he was capable of giving Garrett more of than language because he’d done it often enough for money in the past, verging more towards the mean teasing side of things rather the kind wasn’t something he felt that proficient in when it came to someone he loved. Still, he loved watching the way Garrett started to unravel when he played at being even just a little bit mean.  
  
So he grabbed a handful of the soft belly beneath the harder edge and gave a firm squeeze.  
  
“A overstuffed pig like you doesn’t have a limit,” he growled. “How much do you have left?”  
  
Garrett was flushed, sweat beading at his temple. That was something that seemed to happen more easily now to as his body worked in overtime to process everything he was stuffing into it.  
  
“Ah…about a third.”  
  
Fenris pressed against Garrett’s belly and to both their surprise, forced up another, louder belch. Garrett covered his mouth with the container this time, eyes wide. Fenris bit back a smile; for all his messiness with words, Garrett had always had very good practical manners and seemed positively mortified whenever he broke decorum. Leandra had come from a posh family, Fenris knew; the houses they’d bought had come after selling the _mansion_ that she’d inherited. Part of the sensibilities that came with old money hadn’t escaped Garrett.  
  
“If you keep acting like a pig, I’ll have to punish you,” Fenris said warningly. Garrett groaned, one hand delicately placed atop his impressive pot of a belly. “There’s still half a pie left in the fridge.”  
  
“I don’t think I could bear it.”  
  
Fenris slapped Garrett’s thigh, the sharp sound making Garrett flinch, his stuffed gut wobbling stiffly in-between them.  
  
“I think these flabby thighs suggest otherwise. You’re going to start getting stuck in your chairs—if you haven’t already.”  
  
“I nearly already do,” Garrett whined and it send a spike of heat straight down to Fenris’ already erect cock. The trouble with indulging Garrett’s receptiveness to teasing was that it quickly fed back into his own desire. Which, was the point, but made it harder to keep control. He soldiered on.  
  
“And what would you do if you did get stuck? I don’t think you’d even ask for help to get out; you’d probably just ask me to get you more food until you were really hopelessly stuck like the lazy, gluttonous hog you are.”  
  
Garrett made a keening noise pressed in tightly against his hands. Reaching down below the soft, but still modest hang of his gut, Fenris could feel that his dick was straining in his jeans. He looked up to see what remained of Garrett’s treat and decided that it was still too soon for either of them to get off.  
  
When he started to get up, Garrett’s eyes fluttered and he mumbled something.  
  
“What’s that?” Fenris asked, smoothing a hand down his own front, having nearly forgotten his own bloated midsection.  
  
“You’re not going to go get more food, are you?”  
  
“Of course I am. You’re not done.”  
  
He ignored Garrett’s moaning when it didn’t sound like the safeword and quickly went downstairs to go get more for him to eat. When he returned with the bag of cookies that they’d been sent home with, Garrett was trembling and trying to touch himself around the swell of his belly. His wrists pushed up into the softness underneath but jostled everything painfully upwards. Fenris watched, entirely stunned by the sight; Garrett could still reach himself but it didn’t look _comfortable_.  
  
He gave his head a shake and descended back over him, pressing their cocks up against one another and trying to keep his shit together as he felt them both sink into the softness of Garrett’s belly. He handed Garrett the bag of cookies.  
  
“There’s a photo I still want to take,” he said simply. “Start eating while I get you ready.”  
  
Garrett slowly but eagerly put an entire cookie in his mouth. Fenris smirked and bent over, placing the first of his intended, marking kisses on the largest point of Garrett’s ballooned paunch. He had to move back to get a proper angle for his ministrations which meant breaking the wickedly hot point of contact of their dicks, but he had tasked himself with one thing tonight and if he didn’t get it done he wouldn’t be able to sleep.  
  
He was careful with the quivering mass as Garrett squirmed and tried not to buck underneath him but took his time with running his tongue over the newest of the streaking stretch marks as though in formal greeting and sucked at the softest, flabbiest parts of his belly with reverence. Garrett’s body truly was a thing of glory; a testament to his epicurean tastes and dedication to going beyond even Fenris’ wildest imaginings of overindulgence.  
  
With his hands, he massaged from the sides of his love handles to where the fat had begun to gather in earnest on his back, promising that a full spare tire was likely not a long way off. He pinched the swell of fat that was growing up near his chest, cradling the pert little breasts that’d started to poke through even the thickest of sweaters. He took his time, making sure that Garrett would know how much he loved every, thickening, growing part of him.  
  
After a quick evaluation of where they were at, Fenris deemed that he’s adequately painted Garrett’s belly in purple lipstick and loving little bruises. Garrett still had a few cookies left but seemed to be moving at a steady pace, even as he was breathing heavily from the fullness and the worshipping touches. Fenris nearly went to go get the camera, but decided it could wait as he remembered Garrett trying to desperately to stoke himself. He deserved a little more.  
  
Fenris got in between his legs pulled down his briefs so that he could lick the pre-cum that had already leaked out the tip. He frowned at the bitter taste. Undeterred however, he closed his mouth over and started to swallow. Garrett’s dick was of course, another magnificent feature of the man. It was too big for Fenris to ever comfortably get down to the base of, but Garrett never complained. Anyways, his belly and growing fat pad was starting to take over some of that space and Fenris reached down to touch himself as he was forced to press into it. It was a position he was starting to get used too but with Garrett stuffed so full tonight he decided it was actually difficult to maintain the degree of focus he needed and he reached up to push Garrett’s belly up and give himself a little more room.  
  
Which, was a new tactic and one that was just as distracting as the first problem had been in it’s own way.  
  
He blew Garrett with as much care as he’d taken in rubbing and kissing his belly and paused only to ask if Garrett had eaten everything.  
  
“Last…one.”  
  
With that, Fenris positioned himself so that he could finish Garrett with his hand, watching keenly as Garrett came while stuffing the last cookie into his mouth and swallowing hard. The hot cum flowed into his palm and he felt overwhelmed as he watched the hazy slowness descend over Garrett’s body. Fenris quickly wiped off his hand with the towel Garrett thoughtfully already had by the bed and quickly finished himself as well, feeling as starry-eyed and indulgent as Garrett looked.  
  
He very nearly forgot the damned picture idea before falling asleep, too sated and satisfied with the evening.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pinnacle dinner of the holiday season, but the attention is on the turkey bellies more than the tofurkey itself.

Something Fenris should have known to anticipate through staying with Garrett instead of in his own home was the sheer quantity of food available. He rarely ate three meals each day on his own but since Isabela had arrived five days before and now arriving to Christmas dinner at Leandra’s he wasn’t sure that there’d been a moment where he _wasn’t_ full. More than full; he was constantly overfull and even before he’d started eating and drinking for Christmas dinner he knew that his pants were too tight and could feel them cutting into the soft flesh of his sides.  
  
He was getting…kind of puffy. A reality that shocked and fascinated him.  
  
And it wasn’t just Garrett’s cooking. The extra holiday snacks that seemed ever-present were a significant contribution. Atop that, he had time for the first time in what felt like an eon and had taken to trying his hand at more baking. Not all the results had been edible, but of the ones that were he’d at least sample before passing them on to Garrett.  
  
He hardly dared to step on a scale for fear that it would send him spiralling off into some existential crisis. How much would it even have been possible to have gained since Garrett’s birthday? Surely not that much. But even so, it wasn’t much, he knew that objectively but nestled in right against the fear of existential spiralling was what was beginning to feel like a genuine curiosity that verged on the desire for more. Almost. He wasn’t quite…there. After Izzy left, he was bracing himself for the uncomfortable situation of returning to both his jobs with a noticeable amount of weight having stuck onto him.  
  
He smoothed his hand over his stomach under the table. It was hard to tell how much his stomach had really begun to poke out with the bloating. He wasn’t ever stuffed. He was always very full but never singularly on the brink of what was physically possible. Compared to the few times he had explored stuffing that was the difference that seemed to have expedited the pounds rolling onto him. That, and while Garrett eagerly loaded on pastries and sweet things throughout the day, Fenris was more likely to help himself to extra helpings of “actual food”.  
  
_I’m going to get fat_, he thought, a finger tracing underneath the growing bit of pudge that poked over the top of his jeans. The thought came with the same thrill of shame and zealous heat that he had each time he thought it.  
  
“More egg nog, dear?” Leandra asked, already leaning over to fill his glass. He nodded despite having little choice in the matter. One advantage to all the food was that he wasn’t so likely to leave quite so drunk as he had the last time. Though, in exchange, the egg nog wasn’t going to help any with the rate of holiday weight he’d been packing on.  
  
He wondered if it was going to stop after the holidays. Would Garrett slow down? He’d already dropped the gainer shakes in favour of eating more food which…probably didn’t actually make much of a difference for the time being but would he pick them up again afterwards? Was there a ceiling on how much he wanted to gain?  
  
Looking over to give Garrett an evaluating look Fenris watched as he tried to shift his chair closer to the table but wincing when his gorged stomach bumped against the edge instead. In profile it was clear to see how far his fat, stuffed belly bulged out. And though his chest has softened and begun to sag there was a clear and dramatic curve that pressed outwards that always commanded his attention first.  
  
There were other things too though; even masked under his beard it was clear that he had a significant pouch of fat underneath his chin that was doubling without him having to look down. And his thighs; they hung over the sides of the chair and spread wide, cradling the weight of his belly. Fenris turned his attention back to Isabela and Varric who were loudly discussing what he hoped were knives and not a thinly veiled euphemism for dicks. Izzy glanced over at him wickedly and he truly wasn’t certain.  
  
Since she’d arrived, whatever her diet had been before had clearly been retired and he knew that he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t felt a single pang of hunger since. It had to be impossible, but he swore her hips were already starting to show the effects of her indulgences, providing an extra sway in her walk.  
  
Izzy’s extra weight didn’t hit him the same way that it did with Garrett though. Of course, he’d always found Isabela attractive but…it wasn’t the same Instead, her gluttony felt like permission. It was easier to relax and indulge and partake in everything when she was there. He trusted Garrett to always be honest in what his thoughts were on his body but Isabela was his best friend. Where Garrett laid on adoration, Isabela was his co-conspirator. It nearly seemed as though she were deliberately challenging him to explore the bounds of his limits. Not out of malice, but because she knew that he’d never quite…gotten comfortable this way.  
  
At the core of it, his loosening up on the restrictions he’d hardly noticed that he’d been living with was entirely new territory. And he was happy.  
  
Garrett gave a slight groan beside him, the one he made when he was reaching his full capacity, and Fenris tried not to react. He _was_ happy but he was also horny all the fucking time and if this continued after the holidays at the pace it had been he wasn’t sure that his libido was going to be able to keep up pace.  
  
Fenris took another gulp of his egg nog which he was sure that by the end of the night would all amount to well over the recommended calorie intake in the damned beverage alone. He barely even liked the stuff, but it was the only thing Leandra wanted to serve for the night.  
  
Glancing around the table he tried to focus on other things; this was, as Leandra had said at the Christmas market, their first holiday as a _couple_. And that was special. This was his family and he’d had an inkling of that for years, but this year did feel special. Christmas with the Hawke family had grown to include so many. Fenris’s gaze fell on Sebastian; they seemed to be adding more all the time.  
  
Sebastian had joined them upon Leandra’s insistence. She’d had no shortage of cooking to deliver for the afternoon gathering at the centre for any of the youth who couldn’t make go or weren’t welcome at home for the holidays. Upon interrogation of where he was going to be for the evening, Sebastian had said that he was happy with just the lunch gathering. So naturally, Leandra had invited him to join their dinner. He watched as his boss was leaning over Isabela and saw a glimmer of what she’d alluded to about “his younger days” and considered issuing a warning to Izzy that under no circumstances were they allowed to use his bed for whatever festivities they found themselves in later. It wasn’t that he blamed either of them but the idea of his boss having a very naked reunion with his best friend in his bed made his skin crawl.  
  
“Have they…does Izzy mean that they used to bone?” Garrett asked, leaning over somewhat precariously to ask quietly in his ear. Fenris rolled his eyes.  
  
“I can’t imagine what else she would have been implying.”  
  
“I didn’t think that he swung that way. He clearly has, or had, a huge crush on you. Kind of made me jealous.”  
  
“You have nothing to be jealous over.”  
  
“You should text her now about not using your bed. I’m assuming that’s what the sour look on your face is about.”  
  
Fenris snapped his gaze back to Garrett.  
  
“I don’t have a sour look on my face.”  
  
“Yes, you do dearest, and it’s the one that means you want to tear someone’s heart out with your bare hands. Please don’t kill your boss. He seems like a good bloke.”  
  
Fenris took a breath and tried to relax his expression, and Garrett was right…his expression had been maybe more severe that he even felt.  
  
Garrett rested his hand on the side of his face.  
  
“There you go. No murder at Christmas, for my sake, please. I have no idea how I’d explain it to Mother.”  
  
Fenris smirked, but before he could retort Garrett was kissing him. It was brief, and chaste and for some reason made his heart flutter. It was terrifyingly domestic. Each day since Izzy had arrived and he’d been staying at Garrett’s had felt like they were in some delayed honeymoon phase. They hadn’t been “together” for that long but the transition between an ambiguous friendship and an official restart on being romantic had been made with very little demarcation. Sex, of course was a new addition, but it was the thing that they had to be most careful with. He didn’t want to overly self-diagnosis about it, but the more time they spent with this gaining kink the more it made sense to him as a useful mediator between his earnest desire for connection with Garrett and the barriers he still hadn’t figured out how to take down. The softness made one another safe enough to touch.  
  
As Garrett drew back over to his seat, Fenris followed after hungrily to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Before Garrett had any chance to ask after what the sudden declaration was for or the gentleness in his voice that even caught Fenris off guard, he stood to excuse himself. He needed some air, suddenly overwhelmed with thinking about reasons why this seemed to be working between them this time. He’d always loved Garrett and he was having, increasingly, these moments of being overwhelmed with the reality that he could have this not quite normal but certainly for once not fucking lethal relationship and all the joy that came with it.  
  
He wandered out to the back porch, grabbing Leandra’s smoking jacket and pulling it over his shoulders. Maybe it was the clinging smell on the jacket itself but he did feel a sudden and consuming compulsion for a cigarette. He’d more or less quit all the fun stuff some time around when he’d first met Garrett but the cravings for cigarettes wasn’t something he could ever quite shake. Funny, considering the considerable array of chemical substances he’d either had imposed on him or freely dabbled in.  
  
_Weed though_, he thought as he caught a whiff of some truly, deliciously vile smelling stuff, was the other exception along with booze. He squinted out over the snow and saw footsteps leading behind the shed. He tugged on a pair of gumboots that were by the door and carefully trudged out to join whomever the culprit was.  
  
“Hey,” Bethany greeted.  
  
Fenris nodded, giving the short, bundled up girl a quick look over.  
  
“You alright?” he asked. He’d been concerned, the same way Izzy and Garrett had been the moment they’d seen her. She didn’t look unwell, but between Thanksgiving and now it was clear she’d lost a considerable amount of weight. They all knew better than to say anything but it was…uncharacteristic. She’d made no mention of actively trying to lose any weight. She held out the joint for him and he carefully took it carefully between his fingers.  
  
“Don’t laugh if I end up hacking up a lung,” he said.  
  
“I didn’t even know you smoked.”  
  
“Only on festive occasions.”  
  
“It certainly is festive,” Bethany agreed, leaning back against the shed. He gave an imploring look, not pointing out that she hadn’t answered his question.  
  
“You’ve been quiet since you got here,” Fenris said, gently before carefully taking a drag. It was pungent and perfect. His main reason for not smoking weed regularly had everything to do with finding it easier to (usually) predict and control his level of indulgence with alcohol but he’d also spent a majority of his recovery from other vices entirely smoked out. It wasn’t a habit he wanted to get back into.

“It’s been a busy semester.”  
  
“Too many classes?”  
  
“Something like that.”  
  
Fenris hummed, hoping to wait her out. The girl wanted to talk; that wasn’t lost on him. She was employing some of his favourite diversionary tactics. He took another long slow drag, more confident in his capacity to not embarrass himself in front of a college kid after the first puff.  
  
They traded the joint back and forth for a while and Fenris let the calm wash over him, sinking back in against the shed. The cold that made it through the collar of the jacket was bracing and his feet felt numb in the uninsulated rubber boots, but he was determined to linger as long as it took for Bethany to be a little more forthcoming. She wasn’t someone he’d ever describe as sullen. Sarcastic, yes. Gloomy? Not at all. Her distance was truly troubling.  
  
“We’re a pretty body neutral family,” she said finally.  
  
Fenris furrowed his brows. He’d never heard the term before.

“Body neutral?”  
  
“I’m sure this doesn’t shock you, but I’ve always been pretty chubby. Or just fat. But mum never said anything or made me change anything even when it meant having to buy new clothes with basically no money. She’s just never been like that. Plenty of other things to nag about I guess.”  
  
“And you were out here smoking a joint alone thinking about this because?”  
  
“Because I knew that even though I’ve lost almost thirty pounds in hardly any time at all that no one was going to say anything about it. Even though you’re all probably worried.”  
  
“We’re very worried,” Fenris admitted.  
  
Bethany crossed her arms tightly over her chest.  
  
“No one asks fat girls if they’re okay when they lose weight. They assume that they meant to do it. Because why wouldn’t you want to be skinny and hot or _whatever the fuck?_”  
  
“You don’t feel good or healthy,” Fenris inferred carefully.  
  
_“No.”  
  
_Fenris quickly stubbed out what was left of the joint as he heard the quivering in her voice.  
  
“Shit, Bethy,” he said as he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry we didn’t say anything.”  
  
Her arms were up tight against his chest, and even though she wasn’t a small girl she felt _so small_ whenever he remembered how old she was. He wondered if he should offer to go get Garrett but something told him that she’d close back up if he did that. It might seem like he was trying to offload the problem, whatever it was. He wasn’t especially known for his sensitivity but he tried a lot harder for people cared about this much. He tightened his hold around her.  
  
“We love you,” he said. His thoughts were smudged out around the corners but it made it easier to be direct and honest. “You know that, right? Whatever you need, we’re here.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” she said, voice thick and muffled against him. “I’m just…something bad happened.”  
  
“Did someone hurt you?” Fenris asked, a wave of dread falling over him. If someone had hurt her…he actually didn’t know what he would do. He knew what he was capable of and that scared him.  
  
“No, no one hurt me,” she said with a soft sigh. “It’s just been hard to talk about.”  
  
“You can tell me, however you need to,” he said. He was trying to be careful but maybe that was too much. But he knew, too well, what it did to never tell anyone what you were holding back. The hurt was never as poisonous once you let it bleed out.  
  
“It’s…I dunno. I feel dumb, feeling this sad for so long over someone that really, I barely knew at all.”  
  
“Losing people hurts. Every time.”  
  
It took Bethany a little longer to gather herself. Even though she’d said otherwise he was still worried that there’d be someone to blame for whatever hurt it was she’d been holding in. How long had he excused the pain Danarius had caused him? Too long, by every measure.  
  
“It’s just—there was a professor at my school who took me under his wing throughout my whole undergrad. After Dad died I’ve always had a hard time making friends; we spent so much time together. You know that he used to take me on his research trips, right? I was home-schooled mostly but I got to learn and see everything in exchange in ways that felt like they really _mattered_. So, this professor, Orsino, he understood that. Always included me whenever there was a reason for practical research, loved it just as much as Dad and I did. He died just after Thanksgiving; he—no. I don’t want to talk about how. It just—it felt as bad as losing Dad. Which doesn’t even make sense, and maybe it’s…wrong? I don’t know. It shouldn’t feel as bad as having lost Dad, should it?”  
  
Fenris rested his chin on top of Bethany’s head and closed his eyes. He was sorry that she’d had to deal with everything on her own. He was proud of her for being strong. _He_ felt stupid for not asking sooner, or _noticing_ sooner. Granted, they hardly saw Bethany since she’d chosen a school outside of Kirkwall, but still, that was a big life decision and it was amazing to him that it could go unnoticed.  
  
Some small part of him was almost relieved, but not quite; this professor had clearly meant a lot to her.  
  
“It’s not wrong, Bethy. You know you can call me, whenever you like. You don’t have to deal with things like this by yourself.”  
  
For a moment Fenris was worried that he’d made a misstep in something he’d said but Bethany let out a long sigh and he felt her relax. She wiggled away from him and stepped back, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket.  
  
“Thank-you.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“I feel…better now that someone knows. Just don’t tell Garrett. He’ll just fuss and I’ll feel so much worse.”  
  
“I promise I won’t tell him. Did you eat anything tonight?”  
  
Bethany shook her head.  
  
“Not really. I was um…well I was hoping the joint would help before anyone noticed.”  
  
“Ah,” Fenris said. He had not considered that effect. “Well. It’s cold and they’ll come looking soon enough.”  
  
Confessions out of the way, they headed back into the house which was immediately warm and loud and everything a Christmas should be. He was truly sorry that Bethany had been alone through everything.  
  
He was also thoroughly fucking stoned at this point. All for the best; he was sure his eyes were as red-rimmed as Bethy’s were from crying now which meant it would be easier to cover up the secret conversation he fully intended to keep under wraps. Garrett had migrated over to the living room and Fenris made a show of finding a place in what little room there was in his lap, languishing over him.  
  
“Your sister,” he started, “had some excellent weed.”  
  
Garrett laughed. He actually didn’t smoke at all, contrary to what most people assumed when they met him.  
  
“You’re really letting loose this holiday,” he said. Fenris closed his eyes and hummed pleasantly as Garrett ran his hands up over his thighs.  
  
“This is my favourite Christmas.”  
  
“Because of the weed?”  
  
“Because I’m happy.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Mm hm,” Fenris hummed before curling in against Garrett.  
  
“You’re like a cat.”  
  
“Meow.”  
  
“Maker, you really are loaded.”  
  
Fenris opened his eyes, which was a challenge with how heavy, sleepy and sated he felt. And Garrett was so warm and fucking soft and he just wanted to fall asleep right there on top of him.  
  
_“Yes,”_ he said.  
  
“Did you remember to text Izzy about your bed? I’m not sure how much longer they’re going to be able to hold back the sexual tension over there.”  
  
“Ah. Please do that for me.”  
  
Garrett groped his butt and Fenris jumped a little but chuckled.  
  
“I think I’m sitting on my phone,” Garrett said.  
  
Fenris lifted himself back up, careful not to brace himself too heavily over Garrett’s full stomach. He reached around Garrett’s belly. Garrett’s eyes widened at the apparently blatant display but stopped relaxed when he realized that he was just trying to get his phone for him. It was there, already half-stuck out of his skin-tight jeans.

“Here,” he said, settling back down beside Garrett instead of on him. Garrett unlocked the phone and hunched over, looking enormous with the small device in hand. After some quick jabs he heard a ding somewhere out by the pile of coats by the door from both his and Isabela’s phones. He hoped Isabela thought to actually check her phone before she got any ideas about bringing his _boss_ back to _his_ bed. He laughed again. That actually would be pretty funny if it wasn’t also something that made him so squeamish.  
  
“Your sister is amazing,” Fenris said seriously. “She’s going to be okay.”  
  
Garrett’s eyebrows pinched together, trying to follow along.  
  
“You talked to her about…?”  
  
“Yes. She doesn’t want to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that she’s going to be okay. Okay?”  
  
Garrett frowned and Fenris could tell that he didn’t like not knowing exactly what it was, but he gave a short sigh and nodded.  
  
“As long as she has someone to talk to.”  
  
“Are you jealous?”  
  
“That my sister prefers talking about her problems with my boyfriend? Honestly, a little,” Garrett admitted and gave a light squeeze on Fenris’ thigh. “But I get it. I’m basically the back-up parent. You don’t want to tell your parents everything.”  
  
Fenris couldn’t relate but fondly curled his hand behind Garrett’s head.  
  
“She’d tell you if she was really in trouble.”  
  
“She better,” Garrett said, looking serious.  
  
Fenris melted in against Garrett’s soft side, enjoying the heady feeling of the combination of weed and eggnog. He wanted a cigarette again and sighed, gently pressing his teeth in against Garrett’s throat.  
  
“Oh, Andraste’s tits, you’re trouble,” Garrett growled, gently pushing him off. “If you’re hungry go eat something.”  
  
“You just want me to get fat with you,” Fenris accused lowly as he reluctantly extracted himself from the larger man. Before Garrett had a chance to answer, Fenris pointedly started drifting back towards the kitchen and taking a cookie while still clearly in Garrett’s line of sight. He didn’t have the munchies just yet but out of a precaution he took a couple plates of snacks and moved them out to the living room where everyone was settling in to let their dinner digest. He took a seat on the floor where he was less likely to get in trouble for teasing Garrett and leaned his head against Isabela's knee. She leaned over to inform him that of course she would never violate his bed by sexing his boss in it and he snorted loudly. Garrett narrowed his eyes towards them, suspecting trouble.  
  
Pleasantly stoned and filled with more eggnog than he cared to think about, Fenris spent the rest of the evening grazing on the various plates of snacks that circulated as the family chattered around him. He kept an eye on Bethany, relaxing when he saw that she was indeed eating as the aftereffects of her ridiculously potent weed set in.  
  
In his oversized sweater, it probably wasn’t all that noticeable just how full he was, but as he ran his hand discreetly over the tight curve underneath, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d managed to tread over into the chubby category throughout the course of the dinner alone. Of course, that was impossible, but the bloat in front of him felt enormous. Stoned, and his curiosity piqued, he carefully brought himself up onto his feet and wandered upstairs to the washroom and searched around for a scale. More than a small part of him desperately wanted to know how much he’d gained, even if there was no way he’d get an accurate reading while he was this full.  
  
After some short searching around he found it and set it on the floor, watching as the old analog dial bounced then went still. He looked down at it, the excitement now mingling with a fear that he hated; as hot as he thought Garrett looked, the idea of extra weight on his own frame still scared him. Following that was the guilt in knowing that it was fucked up to be both so turned on by his boyfriends gain and _scared_ of gaining any weight himself.  
  
He stepped on, watched as the numbers spun and bounced and placed a hand expectantly over the little bulge of his belly. As the numbers settled he could feel his heart pounding and sucked in a tight breath of air as it finally stopped.  
  
There was no way that of eight pounds more than when he last checked was all bloat.  
  
He let out a slow breath as he stepped off, a little taken aback by just how big the number was. 177 pounds was more than he’d ever seen on a scale in his life and knowing that it couldn’t all be bloat was a little embarrassing. Had he _really_ been eating that much while staying at Garrett’s? As he passed a hand slowly down the stuffed shape of his belly he supposed that he had done just that. The idea of actually getting chubby was becoming more and more of a reality; if he kept letting Garrett fill him up like this it was going to be a very sudden reality.  
  
He took a deep breath, feeling his stomach fill out underneath his palm.  
  
Fuck it. He liked it. A lot. More than he thought possible. It was titillating, knowing that he was filling out on his fat boyfriend’s cooking, that his influence and doting care was starting to add up. Shit, it wasn’t going to be long before it really started to show. Looking into the mirror he pulled his shirt tight around his belly. From the front it didn’t look like much but as he turned to his side it was shocking to see how dramatic it looked compared to what not too long ago had been not just entirely flat but even concave. Biting his lip he lifted up his shirt and pressed his fingers on where he used to be able to clearly see the lines of individual ribs. Right now, being so full, he couldn’t even seen clearly where the bottom-most rib was. Curiously he ran his palm down his hip and thigh, wondering if he was imagining that it flared out a little more than it used to. It had to though, he knew that; he could feel it in every pair of jeans that he had but it was little harder to see.  
  
But more than that; the tattoos. They were stretching out, the strange ink still stark against his skin but looking less severe on softer flesh. Most of the time he did his utmost to ignore them despite that being nigh impossible with how they were so carefully arranged over his entire body. He hoped no one else ever had to sit beneath Danarius’ needle. He traced a finger over the curling lines that’d been etched in over his ribs but instead of ribs everything was smoothed over. The memory of the stinging pain seemed lessened at the present version of him that bespoke of tenderness in every extra pound. The cage of these tattoos were starting to break around him and that felt so good that for a moment he felt dizzy.  
  
He took another deep breath, this time holding the little belly affixed to his middle from the sides and gently tried to shift it upwards. It really wasn’t enough to lift or move and jostle much the way that he’d so taken to enjoying playing with Garrett’s, but it was enough to suggest the possibility. Reaching behind him, he felt the curve of his own ass, knowing that it was bigger but imagining even more. The extra weight was a bit girlish, making his body more feminine in a way that made him nervous. Masculinity wasn’t exactly an aspiration of his but the softness was noticeable. Lifting his shirt he confirmed that yes, there was some softness accumulating around his pecs, making his nipples peak from a little mound of fat.  
  
Any extra weight on him was going to look a lot different than it was on Garrett. The thought made him a little envious, having been so admiring of the strong, bulky shape he was taking on with a prominent and spherical belly in front of him. It suited him. Fenris supposed he’d never taken the line of thinking of what “suited” someone and applied it to himself. But the weight suited Garrett. As it did for Isabela and Sebastian.  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it, where the extra weight would settle. Clearly, the first place had been his ass and thighs. There were always harsh indents on his skin from the inseams and where it was biting into his sides the hardest. But that there was already some plushness showing up on his chest was…alarming. _Moobs_; such an unflattering word but he couldn’t think of anything better and couldn’t think of if he could really handle his own budding into any more than they already were.  
  
Some part of him wished that he could skip the awkward part of gaining where it was discernible and clear where it was showing up and jump right into the properly fat category. Frankly, he didn’t think he had the eating stamina to get there, not really. But some extra weight, the way it was showing up in his time with Garrett, he had the sense that his threshold would come much sooner.  
  
He sighed. Some part of that didn’t seem fair. He couldn’t expect Garrett to have an unending limit and fear the same for himself.  
  
Unless, it didn’t have to be fear. _Body neutral_, the term Bethy had brought up was an intriguing concept. Being critical of his own body was easy. Being positive left it too easy to fall into the guidelines Danarius inscribed into him along with the tattoos. Really, neutrality sounded like bliss. So what if he was thin, chubby, or fat? To be neutral about one’s body felt like it gave a lot more points of access into how to use it. If he was curious about gaining some more weight, why not just do it?  
  
There was a knock at the door and Fenris jumped.  
  
“One second,” he said as he hastily tugged his sweater back down.  
  
“Oh, no rush,” he heard Merrill on the other side of the door. “Or well, actually, I’ve really needed to pee for the last hour but couldn’t get out of talking with Leandra…”  
  
Fenris flushed the toilet to hide the sound of him sliding the scale back into the cupboard and turned on the tap. He washed his hands despite not needed too and opened the door to Merrill, who was teetering anxiously back and forth.  
  
“Sorry,” he said, stepping aside quickly. She prattled on but eagerly pushed past him and closed the door. He smiled; that girl needed to know how to end a conversation when she was finished with it. As he made his way back downstairs, he couldn’t help but have his thoughts drift into the idea of Merrill with a bit of extra weight. She was rail thin, but perhaps closest in body type to himself in many ways. Would the weight _suit_ her if she had any extra to speak of?  
  
He shook his head. It felt inappropriate to think about Merrill that way. If she put on weight, really he’d just be relieved. She’d gotten sick earlier in the year and lost enough weight that the doctor had told her to drink nutritional supplements.  
  
Halfway back down the stairs Garrett was coming up. Fenris moved to let him pass, thinking he was also going upstairs to relieve himself but instead Garrett took his hands and started pulling him into his room.  
  
“Tired?” Fenris asked once Garrett had closed the door. He looked dubiously at the bed; they hadn’t fit in it together last time, this time the notion was comical. Garrett shook his head.  
  
“Just wondering where you’d gone off to,” Garrett said, crowding in close. Fenris was corralled in back against the dresser and tipped up onto his toes so that he could sit on it. Once he was confident that he wasn’t going to slip off or knock anything over he rested his hands on either side of Garrett’s belly, gently running his fingers up and down the bulging sides and the soft roll of his love handles. Garrett leaned into the touch, rubbing his stomach up over Fenris’ and sighing happily. As he dug his hands in lightly on Fenris’ thighs, he leaned over the impressive prow of his belly to kiss him.  
  
Mind smoothed over from the weed and booze, it was easy to sink into the feeling. The kiss was hot, loose and lingering. The weight of Garrett’s belly pressed up into him and he spread his legs wider, straining a little as he did his best to accommodate the large man. With more room, Garrett leaned in harder and Fenris had to brace himself with one hand, leaving his side exposed. Garrett’s hand immediately landed on the side of his belly, moving in a careful exploration. Curiosity piqued, Garrett slipped his hand up underneath the sweater and carefully traced the curved front of him with a finger.  
  
“This is looking pretty round tonight,” Garrett said quietly, though it didn’t mask the heat in his voice.  
  
“The munchies hit hard,” Fenris laughed.  
  
Garrett nipped at the tender skin of his throat.  
  
“It looks good.”  
  
Fenris felt a coil of heat start to pool down between his hips and shifted. Garrett leaned back to gently push the sweater up off him, fingers feeling tentative as though this was maybe this was the first time they’d ever made out. With Garrett’s hand reverently placed over his stomach and massaging lightly while they kissed, it did feel new. Fenris tipped his head back as Garrett sucked at his throat, feeling the skin bruise easily and not caring about how much Isabela was going to tease them about it.  
  
“I like seeing you enjoy my cooking,” Garrett said. “You’ve been insatiable.”  
  
The way he was speaking was so soft and careful and Fenris felt himself going flush from the words alone.  
  
“I like being fed by you,” Fenris said, flinching as the confession came out hardly above a whisper. He quickly went on before Garrett thought to ask after that notion further. “I like feeling the softness on me, knowing that it’s because of you.”  
  
Garrett growled and moved back up to catch his mouth in another kiss, this one feeling more urgent.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Seeing what you’re doing to me, it makes me feel closer to you.”  
  
Garrett groaned, pressing their bellies up tightly together. Fenris gripped at his soft sides, nails digging in tightly to the building heft. He wants to add that he feels taken care of, not controlled but didn’t dare tread into that territory when this felt so good. He shivered as he felt Garrett’s hand travel up over his bare skin and palm his chest, curling his fingers until the pinched over his nipple and teasing it until he could feel it peak out. Moving down, Garrett covered his mouth over it, the heat already feeling like too much and Fenris arched up into the touch. He tried to bite back a cry as Garrett’s other hand squeezed his thigh, struggling to find purchase in how tightly the denim was stretched over it. He let out a shuddering sigh as he felt Garrett’s tongue pass over his nipple before moving onto the other one and raised his hand up, chasing after the sensation. His fingers pressed into the slight give that’d accumulated and yes, imagined how much more he’d feel if there was _more_. The tight feeling of shame budded up in his chest but he quickly relaxed underneath Hawke’s ministrations again.  
  
When Hawke finished and started moving further downwards, Fenris felt intoxicated again by the sensation as Garrett sucked at the soft flesh on the lowest part of his stomach. His _tits_ felt sensitive as the spit that coated them went cold in the air of the room and it sent a shiver down his spine.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Garrett said between kisses. “I just want to keep filling you up, every day, see you happy and full.”  
  
“Do it, I don’t care. Fill me,” Fenris babbled, covering his mouth with his hand as though trying to shove the words back in. This was so, so much. The booze and weed hadn’t entirely worn off but he was sober enough that he should have been able to hold _that_ back. “Let me know what it feels like to be taken care of by you.”  
  
“Holy fuck, Fen,” Garrett said, sounding pained. Suddenly, he was scooping Fenris off the dresser and setting him on the bed. “I don’t—this is turning me on even more than stuffing myself sick.”  
  
Fenris laughed weakly.  
  
“That’s…exceptional.”  
  
“Can I…I want—” Garrett gave his head a shake, trying to order his thoughts into a more careful train. Fenris stoked his beard, hoping it was enough to encourage him to finish. He knew what Garrett was going to ask but wanted to hear it.  
  
“I want to take you from behind,” he said, a soft smile playing across his lips as he found the words. “Bloody hell, I don’t know why I couldn’t remember words for a moment there.”  
  
Fenris pulled him down by the shirt into a kiss, letting Garrett’s larger belly press in around him.  
  
“Did you lock the door?”  
  
Garrett shook his head and reluctantly moved off of him to quickly turn the lock. While he was doing that, Fenris undid the front of his pants and watched with rapt attention to how his stomach fell forward without the constraint of his jeans propping it up. He traced a finger from the bottom up onto the outmost curve of it. When he locked up, he could see Garrett watching him hungrily and smirked. Too easy. He shifted up so that he could pull off his jeans and underwear in one motion, feeling some of his control return to him as the tightness stopped squeezing every thought out of his head.  
  
“Come here,” he said, gesturing for Garrett to come closer. Garrett obeyed and let Fenris work at undoing his slacks. They were quite new so on an “empty”, or as empty as Garrett ever let it be, stomach they fit just fine. Bloated like this however, it took a bit more work to get the button undone. Once he had it though and pulled the zipper down, Garrett’s belly fell forward and down much as his own had done and Fenris ran a hand appreciatively up it. Garrett swayed into the touch and eagerly started unbuttoning his shirt. Fenris had meant to do that, but instead nuzzled his nose into Garrett’s tight navel. Experimentally, he stuck his tongue into his deepening belly button and felt Garrett pause and fight back a shudder. Grinning, he spend some more time on it, cupping Garrett’s ass in his hands and kneading. Well, that was one spot where he had an advantage in gaining over Garrett. Still, there was plenty to handle.  
  
Once the shirt was off, Fenris reached up to the elasticated waist of Garrett’s briefs and worked his fingers underneath them. The pants might have fit well at the beginning of the night, but his underwear was really struggling. Fenris traced the edge of it, his fingers disappearing underneath the fold of Garrett’s belly. He leaned forward and started sucking the soft skin as he pulled the tight elastic down. Garrett was already hard and as he stepped out of the underwear, Fenris reached back to get a condom and lube to cover him.  
  
“Is it weird we keep this many condoms and this much lube in your childhood bedroom?” Fenris asked mildly.  
  
“Darling, if our appetites are going to be as insatiable as they have been, it’s just responsible,” Garrett said, holding his belly up a bit so that Fenris could get the condom on more easily. “Besides, everyone is drunk downstairs playing charades.”  
  
“Charades, really?”  
  
“Yes, it’s the other reason I left,” Garrett chuckled. “Though I’ll cherish the memory of my brother trying to communicate _The Matrix: Reloaded_ until my death.”  
  
Fenris gave Garrett’s belly a light slap.  
  
“That’s the kind of thing I hate missing.”  
  
“Sorry,” Garrett said sheepishly.  
  
Fenris shrugged and handed Garrett the bottle of lube.  
  
“Just hit it deep, babe, and all is forgiven.”  
  
It took a while for Garrett to stop laughing and actually follow through, but the pause felt much needed. Otherwise when Fenris felt Garrett’s thick belly actually resting heavily on his ass as he drove into him, he might have completely disintegrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How am I this far into writing this fic and still no one is fat enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaning into curiosity opens up space for new possibilities.

“Love, are you awake?”  
  
Fenris rolled onto his side, wincing a bit as his back twinged. Garrett had taken the air mattress on the floor, but his old bed was…about as comfortable as Fenris remembered. He propped his head up, resting his cheek on his hand as he looked down at Garrett. Sighing, he wondered if they should discuss buying a slightly more appropriate bed to leave at his mothers, seeing as they slept over often enough. Garrett looked a bit pathetic, laid out, still bloated and corpulent on the floor.  
  
“Unfortunately,” Fenris squinted over at the clock. It was still early and it was doubtful that anyone else was awake just yet. It was still dark outside.  
  
Garrett sat himself up, Fenris blearily as Garrett’s belly rounded out in front of him. He pulled his chunky legs underneath him, letting it sit in heavily in front of him and looked rather…cute. Large and soft and enticing. Carefully, Fenris lowered himself out of the bed and sat beside him, assuming this was about to be a conversation about the night before. They hadn’t even gone to bed when they’d finished; Fenris had gone and taken a shower and when he’d gotten out everyone was still downstairs watching a movie. Izzy and Sebastian hadn’t made it off the couch and to his apartment to violate his bed, instead cozied up together and dozing. They looked cute, but Fenris hoped that the man knew that Izzy wouldn’t be staying long.  
  
Garrett reached out with a finger and stroked his leg, going down with the grain of the hair.  
  
“Mum’ll murder me, but I was thinking…maybe we should sneak out of here before everyone wakes up,” Garrett said. Fenris pinched his brows together. That was unusual.  
  
“I ehm—I feel,” Garrett stumbled. “Odd? Not bad, exactly just…I miss dad.”  
  
Fenris shifted so that he could be a little closer, leaning his leg against Garrett’s side and resting a hand over his ankle. He wasn’t really awake yet but cast his thoughts around trying to remember if there was something especially significant about the date that correlated to Garrett’s father that he should be remembering, but he couldn’t pull it in. Malcolm Hawke had died in the summer, his birthday was in the spring.  
  
“Ah—he—well. Christmas was one of the only times I knew him and Bethy would be home for sure. This year was good, Fen, really good. The house just felt really full, the way it did when he was around. And now I’m feeling a bit like…even with all of that, like there’s just a piece missing, you know?”  
  
Fenris could not relate, but nodded anyways. It was funny; that both Bethany and Garrett were so struck with the linger grief over the loss of their father and would know what one another was missing so much better than he could and yet…had decided they couldn’t talk to one another about it. Families were a peculiar thing.  
  
“Okay. Let’s go home,” Fenris said. He clenched his teeth a little at the end of the sentence; he meant of course to say, _let’s go back to your place_, but “home” was the word that was slipping out more and more often. Garrett smiled, maybe catching it too, but didn’t hold him to it.  
  
The drive home, Garrett did seem a bit distracted and deflated. Fenris didn’t know what to say and didn’t try. Families were not his forte. He couldn’t recall any family Christmases growing up and as much as he searched around in his head for even an inkling of the memory, he couldn’t even conjure up his mother or sisters’ face. When Varania had reappeared last it hadn’t been a happy meeting seeing that she’d only asked to meet him at Danarius’ behest. Fenris pressed his lips thinly; he was lucky he’d had the sense to bring Garrett with him otherwise he’d have left with a lot more than an assault charge once he’d realized that Danarius himself had been there. Varania at least knew better than to show her face again since.  
  
But Garrett loved his family. Everything he did was for them, even when his younger siblings depended on him like a parent, and even when things were tense with his mother. He had happy memories of them to put alongside any conflicts that invariably came up. And everything ‘worked out’. “It’ll all work out,” was one of Fenris’ most reviled platitudes but in the case of the Hawke family, it seemed to hold true. The exception being that Malcolm Hawke was long gone from the picture.  
  
Garrett was subdued as they arrived back to his house and took Dog for a short walk to relieve himself. While they were out, Fenris made some tea and started some breakfast. None of the lavish work that Garrett applied himself too, but he had a simple enough stack of French toast ready by time he heard Garrett urging Dog to contain himself as he came bounding back through into the kitchen, melting snow into a puddle and looking up at Fenris expectantly for his breakfast as well.  
  
Garrett followed shortly after, grumbling as he got a towel around the creature and tried to minimize the mess as much as he could.  
  
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we ever got proper snow and not this mix of mud slops and ice,” Garrett huffed. Dog gave a loud bark, as though in hearty agreement. “Hush, you.”  
  
Behind him, he could hear Garrett’s phone dinging and saw his boyfriend’s large shoulders slump.  
  
“That’ll be mother,” he said. Before he could work himself back up, Fenris went over to the phone and put it on silent and then went to go plug it into the charger upstairs.  
  
“You can deal with it later,” he said over his shoulder. “Mind that last piece of toast.”  
  
While he was up there, Fenris changed out of his jeans and into a pair of sweats. He tried not to pay too much mind to how his stomach was still bloated from the night before and how his shirt was starting to catch a little around it. He stuck a thumb in under the band of the sweats themselves and gave it a gently tug down so that it didn’t look so awkward and bit his lip as he realized that it more clearly framed the little paunch that’d gathered around his front. Turning slightly he thought, never mind _that _as he noted that while the sweats were still plenty comfortable, they certainly weren’t quite as loose and his behind filled out the back quite easily.  
  
After a deep breath, he took a step back mentally and took in the full view of his own body a little more objectively. He looked _good_. Really. He could hardly believe that he it but he _did_. Acknowledging that helped, but as he moved his palm over the curve of his ass it was still hard to believe that this was him; _his_ body. _His_ body that was getting a little curvier each day, _his_ body that was rounding out of what’d always been carefully prescribed and maintained edges.  
  
_His_ body that’d wobbled and shook around him as his boyfriend ploughed him into the bed.  
  
Fenris gave his head a shake as he felt his dick starting to go hard at the memory of the previous night. He turned sharply before he could really catch the flush pinkness of his skin going hot. This was not the time to be getting horny over the extra weight he was packing on while his boyfriend was having a post-Christmas endorphin drop downstairs. Nothing smelt like it was burning at least.  
  
When he got back downstairs, Garrett had put everything onto a plate and was cutting some strawberries into slices. Usually when Garrett was cooking it was a whole and merry production that more often than not included top 40 pop hits and no small amount of dancing and singing, so it was unusual to see him so intently slicing, hunched over and comparatively melancholy. Fenris squared his own shoulders and gently came up behind him, wrapping his arms around and clasping his hands over the topmost part of Garrett’s belly.  
  
“Want to stay in today?”  
  
Garrett sighed.  
  
“I want to stay home for like, a week. I think mum’ll want the car later though.”  
  
“I’ll bring it back.”  
  
“No, I can—”  
  
“Let me. It’s no problem. I want to swing by my place and get a few things anyways, maybe visit Izzy for a bit.”  
  
Fenris let go of Garrett, hands trailing around his sides soothingly. He gave him a light pat.  
  
“Let’s eat,” he said.  
  
Garrett nodded and brought the strawberries over. He settled heavy into his chair and looked overwhelmed for a moment over the food in front of them.  
  
“Thank you for making breakfast,” he said, expression softening. Fenris tried not to bite at his lip; the way Garrett looked at him sometimes, like he was a whole and wonderful world, was still a lot to take in. He quickly looked away and gestured out at the food in front of them.  
  
“Please,” he prompted again. “It’s nothing like what you can do anyways.”  
  
“Fen, this is perfect.”  
  
Even when reinforced, Fenris couldn’t help but brace himself against the compliment. He wasn’t hungry, but he started a plate together for himself.  
  


* * *

  
  
When he finally made it to Leandra’s it’d largely been cleared out. Even the twins had gone, Carver for a boxing day sale and Bethany to go see some friends. Isabela and Sebastian seemed to have finally relocated and as he made his way back into the house it felt…especially empty even when he came upon Leandra working through the last of the dishes from the night before.  
  
“Leandra? I’ve just put the keys in your purse,” he said, coming into the kitchen. It hadn’t been left in a terrible state the night before but there was still plenty to work through after everything had been piled into plastic containers or saran wrapped bowls. Despite the many voracious appetites present, Leandra had truly outdone herself.  
  
“Oh, thank-you dear,” she said absently, waving a soapy hand at him.  
  
Fenris bit back a sigh; whatever it was that was so affecting the mood of the Hawke family he seemed to be the one left to confront it. He didn’t mind; they were his family, really. Instead of making his exit, he came in beside Leandra and nudged her.  
  
“I’ll wash for a while if you want to work on drying?” he offered.  
  
“Oh, Fenris, you don’t have—well, you’re already in it I suppose. Thank-you.”  
  
They worked in an unfamiliar silence. He usually expected chatter from Leandra, but she was uncharacteristically quiet. He clenched his teeth tightly, not wanting to ask after what might be wrong; it could be about Malcolm, or about Garrett and him leaving without speaking to anyone in the morning. As he washed, his hand sunk into the warm, soapy water he habitually pressed his hips in against the edge of the counter and then tried not to too obviously pull himself back as he realized how his stomach bowed out a little over it. Biting his lips he decided that talking was maybe a better idea.  
  
“Sorry we left so early,” he started. “Garrett wasn’t feeling well.”

Not entirely true, but not entirely a lie.  
  
“Quite alright,” Leandra said. “He gets a bit melancholic at times, doesn’t he?”  
  
“Ah…yes, I suppose so,” Fenris said. He didn’t want to point out that his occasional bouts of melancholy often had to do with disagreements with Leandra given that he very much valued his good standing with the mother of the man he loved.  
  
“Though, it is hard not to at the holidays,” Leandra said. “We all miss Malcolm, but I miss the kids too. Oh, I know they’re still here and the twins have got more than a week before they head back and that Garrett and you are here often enough, but…when you’re not, it is just little old me. It’s almost enough to convince me to reach out to my brother at times!”  
  
“That…seems inadvisable.”  
  
“It certainly is,” Leandra agreed, voice deceptively light. “You boys seem to be doing well though?”  
  
Fenris tensed up, expecting some comment on the weight each of them had put on and wished that he hadn’t eaten breakfast for how much it pushed his stomach back out. He really hadn’t needed to eat, but even now as he was nervous the meal felt like a comforting weight in his stomach. The feeling of fullness didn’t bother him so much anymore as he leaned it. He still had to work on feeling guilty for taking to much or letting it shift his body around him, but it was getting easier. He was settling into it. He was even keen on accepting the encouragement towards it.  
  
Still, he dreaded hearing the first comment from someone who wasn’t Garrett or Izzy.  
  
“Er—yes, much better this time,” he tried.  
  
“Good, good. He’s always been such an anxious boy, but he’s always been patient when it matters.”  
  
Fenris breathed in, wishing that she’d commented on his weight instead now.  
  
“I’m lucky that he did.”  
  
"I have a feeling that you were well worth it,” Leandra said, looking at him and her voice this time was easier. He relaxed a little. “You’re good for him. I see how happy he is; how happy you are. It’s always felt like more of a family since you came along.”  
  
Fenris gave a quick nod and focused intently on the pan he was scrubbing. From the corner of his eye he could see Leandra smiling knowingly and willed it that she didn’t say anything further. It seemed to have worked and she changed the subject, telling him about the lunch she was planning for “the ladies” to work through some of the leftovers. And of course, as they finished, insisted that he wait a moment for her to fix him and Garrett some plates for later. There was no refusing so he waited dutifully, listening to her chatter as she regaled him with a tale of the previous nights game of charades that he’d missed. He really didn’t want to miss it next time.  
  
Outside, being December, it was of course freezing, but as he shifted around while waiting for the bus he didn’t find himself bothered. This of course had much to do with the new boots that Izzy and Hawke had bought him and the thick mittens Bethany had given him. With a full stomach and more food in tow, he felt rather well taken care of and while it made him nervous it was also welled up with gratitude. Leandra’s comment about it feeling more like a family affair with him around warmed him right up to his ears. He had trouble believing it, but…the Hawke’s had given him nothing but kindness for the better part of a decade. Even after he broke Garrett’s heart. He supposed that there was merit in finding the humility to go back and pick up the pieces. Garrett’s family knew very little of what had happened to him, but they’d always known it was big enough to make everything harder.  
  
He texted Isabela on the bus to warn her that he was going to be at the apartment soon and by time he got there he was relieved to see that there were no signs of Sebastian.  
  
“I would never,” Isabela assured. “We are meeting later tonight at his place for sober sex. At his behest.”  
  
“Ah,” Fenris said, frowning. Sober sex sounded…serious. “Does he…know that you won’t stay?”  
  
“Of course. You underestimate him. He may have come out of the back end of the brotherhood a little stiffer, but Sebastian knows the deal better than most.”  
  
“The brotherhood? Really?”  
  
“He’s never mentioned it? Nearly committed himself for life to the Chantry.”  
  
Fenris tried to work it through if he’d maybe missed that detail about Sebastian. It was a big deal and explained a lot. While he was thinking, Isabela kicked at his leg from her seat at the table.  
  
“Is that lunch that you brought there? I’m starved. Or well…hung over.”  
  
“Oh…yeah, I suppose,” Fenris said, moving towards the counter to set the bag up. There are no less than six containers of food in it, each a individual meal size and he took one out to warm up in the microwave for Isabela.  
  
“You’re a saint,” she said, stretching herself back happily. “Can I have coffee too?”  
  
Fenris chuckled and reached for the kettle while the food slowly turned behind the glass door.  
  
“Anything you like,” he said. Garrett, Bethy and Leandra all took a little more intuition in taking care of but Isabela was easy, who couldn’t be subtle about her desires if she tried and he was happy to indulge. He might not be terribly good at cooking, and baking might be a skill in progress, but he did make a good cup of coffee after a multi-year stint as a barista. His first legit job, in fact, and one that he’d gotten on his own in the third year of his undergrad. School had of course, been expensive. Even with the cam money he’d saved up for it and the occasional work that he took on through his undergrad along with the scholarships he managed to scrap together with his then still middling writing skills, it’d been hard to keep above water.  
  
The food finished reheated just as he was starting to pour the water over the grinds and he caught Isabela wincing at the sound.  
  
“I drank…far too much of that bloody eggnog,” she said. “I’m actually glad the golden boy called it and decided we should sober up. Andraste’s tits, is this what all of my 40s are going to be like? How are you not bothered?”  
  
Fenris shrugged, opening the door to get the food and checking that it’d heated through properly.  
  
“You _did_ drink a lot. And I saw you spike your eggnog with more Brandy nearly every time.”  
  
Isabela groaned, unable to defend herself. Fenris set the food down in front of her and turned his attention back to finishing the coffee.  
  
The look of satisfaction on Isabela’s face as he made her coffee just the way he knew that she liked it was almost singularly worth the following three years worth of pathetic student tips and constant stench of steamed milk.  
  
He poured himself some and sat down opposite of her. She took another sip of her coffee, looking at him expectantly. She took another and he frowned.  
  
“What?”  
  
“…aren’t you going to eat? It’s lunch.”  
  
He could have said that he’d already eaten and was still full from breakfast. Which, he was. Especially given that he hadn’t escaped leaving Leandra’s without eating one of her breakfast muffin’s either. Really, he could have just said that he wasn’t hungry and he was sure that Isabela would have said nothing of it. Instead, he found himself backing up his chair, propelled by the piqued curiosity of his own softening form and feigning absentmindedness as he put another container in the microwave. He felt self conscious about how much it felt as though his stomach were sticking out in front of him as he waited for the food to finish reheating, sipping anxiously at his coffee but Isabela didn’t seem to notice. Maybe she didn’t have her contacts in. Or maybe she didn’t think that it was worth commenting on. Maybe she was just too hung over.  
  
Besides, between the two of them, he wasn’t the only one looking a bit fuller. From where he was standing her could clearly see the outlining curve of her stomach, definitively softer than when she’d first arrived and her thighs looked familiar in their thickness. He tried not to think to deeply about his own thicker thighs as he sat. It was almost easy to forget about as they settled into easy, volume appropriate conversation for a hangover situation. Except, that as he ate he could feel his stomach starting to mercilessly round back out and even worse, the guilty knot of satisfaction that came with knowing that he was pushing himself. It was decadent and satisfying to think of how much he was putting into his body and how it would start to add up and mark him with it’s evidence. Each pound that he gained felt like a further reassurance that his body was his own. He wanted to ask if Isabela had ever felt that way after she’d left her husband but that felt far out of the realm of conversation she’d be up for at the moment.  
  
He thought about the number he’d seen on the scale the night before and wondered how far off he was from making that his empty stomached number if he kept this up.  
  
Garrett’s attention the night before had been one thing, but the more he reflected on it throughout the day the more he could acknowledge how good it’d felt for what it was. The extra weight had changed how sex felt and while that should have been an obvious outcome it was impossible for him to shake off the feeling of how the change felt _so_ good.  
  
It wasn’t only the weight itself, but the adoration that had come regardless of it.  
  
_Adored_. He felt adored. The affirmation that he was allowed to shift and change as their relationship went on and be loved regardless afforded a freedom that was entirely unfamiliar. It felt ridiculous to come to that realization after knowing Hawke for so long, but given what the expectations of his last relationship had been…well.  
  
“Dove, you seem distracted,” Isabela said, pouting. “Here I am, regaling you with a delectable and very true tale of interdepartmental seduction and you’ve hardly said a word.”  
  
“Sorry, I was thinking.”  
  
Isabela frowned disapprovingly.  
  
“About?”  
  
Fenris shifted uncomfortably and tried to hide a wince as he realized just how full he was from how it sent a sharp ping up through his stomach.  
  
“Just…Hawke.”

“Really? Because it isn’t as though you haven’t been spending enough time with him as it is.”  
  
“I just…I really love him,” Fenris said numbly. Isabela softened.  
  
“Pretty sure you were well aware of that before, but is there are particular reason you are being reminded right now?”  
  
Fenris relaxed and smiled.  
  
“No,” he said. “No, nothing in particular.”

* * *

  
  
Fenris took his time making his way home, sensing that Garrett needed time to himself today and content to give it to him. He spent the afternoon with Isabela, accompanying her from the comfort of his own couch as she online shopped through boxing day sales. For himself, he’d never been much for the holidays or many of the trimmings and frenzies surrounding it, but this year felt like an exception that didn’t chafe too badly against his own sensibilities. He texted Garrett later in the afternoon asking if he needed him to pick up anything and received an exaggerated text back of Garrett acting quite aggrieved that his boyfriend would believe that he’d send him out into the post-Christmas hellscape. Still, Isabela accompanied him part of the way seeing that it was en route to Sebastian’s and they stopped at a bakery and he ordered the man a hot chocolate and a box of pastries.  
  
“With peppermint and everything,” Garrett said, mock swooning. “Oh, and those chocolate croissants. What ever have I done to deserve you?”  
  
He seemed in better spirits than when Fenris had left at least.  
  
“Do you want one?” Garrett asked, holding the open box towards him. Fenris hesitated but selected one of the less extreme looking desserts he’d brought and sunk in heavily beside Garrett on the couch. He bit into the biscuit he’d selected and frowned. It was good but it was a part of a trend to today that was forcing him to consider something he’d never have dreamed that he would.  
  
“Hawke,” he started.  
  
“Yes, m’love?” Garrett replied around a mouthful of croissant.  
  
“I’ve been thinking a lot about last night.”  
  
“Oh,” Garrett swallowed. “Oh, love, I’m sorry if that was—was it too much?”  
  
Fenris shook his head.  
  
“No, not at all.”  
  
Garrett let out a breath, waiting for the following “but” and Fenris felt his heart sink. Had he so conditioned Garrett to always assuming the worst? He huffed out a breath of frustration and drew himself more upright.  
  
“I want you to feed me.”  
  
Garrett blinked slowly, clearly not certain that he'd heard correctly.  
  
“Like…?”  
  
“Yes,” Fenris replied quickly, before he lost his nerve. “Until Isabela goes. I’m about twenty pounds up from what I usually am and…it feels good. I don’t know if it’s something I want to do as seriously as you, but I’m…curious enough to go a little further. If that’s alright with you.”  
  
“Fenris, it’s more than alright. Are you sure?”  
  
“_Yes._”  
  
“Right, sorry. I’m just surprised. Uhm. Ah…wow. Okay. Ah—do you have a, uhm, is there a limit on how much you want to gain?”  
  
Fenris shrugged.  
  
“As much as we can manage until I go home. It was happening anyways.”  
  
“Yeah, but not intentionally. It’ll—oh, I’m all aflutter, actually,” Garrett said. He didn't look like he was exaggerating, wide-eyed and astonished. And deeply appreciative of the prospect.  
  
Fenris smirked. He couldn’t deny that he liked having the upper hand when it came to getting his boyfriend flustered and for once it felt good to revel in that a bit. Feeling emboldened, he put the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed as he got himself up onto Garrett’s lap. Garrett looked up at him in awe, the idea still settling in.  
  
“I don’t want to do stuffings,” Fenris said, while pressing his stomach forwards into Garrett’s larger, softer one. “Not the way that you do. But I want to just make sure that I’m full throughout the day.”  
  
Garrett swallowed, hands reaching up to Fenris’s sides reverently, like he’d been handed something sacred.  
  
“We can do that,” he said.

“I’ve eaten so much today,” Fenris said, arching back slightly to draw Garrett’s attention directly to his middle. He hadn’t stopped after lunch; Isabela had stocked his place with more snacks than he’d ever buy for himself and they’d shared throughout the afternoon. His front was tight and bowed out generously, clear even through his oversized sweater.  
  
“Um…well I was going to make that pasta I made last week. The one with the artichokes.”  
  
“I liked that one. And dessert?”  
  
“I made a sad baked a pie. We have ice cream. Are you sure you want dessert, I know you don’t—”  
  
“Dessert is mostly for you. I want to make sure we’re not neglecting you,” Fenris said, resting his hand on the rounded front of Garrett’s belly. Clearly he hadn’t been the only one diligent with their eating that day. Hawke ran his large hands up and down Fenris's sides as though evaluating the work he had in front of him, then rested them on his thigh and griping gently.  
  
“Love, dearest; I’m going to get you so nice and plump before you go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt short. Someone was being very coy and inspiring on tumblr. Be back soon with more.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food as a love language at its finest.

“Fenris…how many views on something is considered…popular? On the internet?”

“Why?” Fenris asked suspiciously, coming into the kitchen. He accepted the scone Hawke handed to him and took a bite. Like most things Garrett made it was excellent and in this case, sensitive to his own preferences. It wasn’t too sweet, the flavour of the raspberry cooked in burst tart in his mouth.

“Well, that picture you took with all the lipstick. Mm, I think it’s, ah—well it has seven thousand like? Notes? Whatever.”

Fenris’ eyes widened, legitimately surprised. He hadn’t ever  _ accidentally _ made successful content.

“Yeah, it looks like it made it off FA blogs and onto body positivity ones. And bear sites. Oh, I feel a bit bad; like I should maybe delete the account? I don’t think its what most of the body positivity people are looking for. And then all the actual perverts keep offering to buy me more food. Actually, most of them are er—not nice. I just stopped opening them.”

Fenris patted Garrett’s side appreciatively.

“Well, I’m very fond of this,” he said practically. Garrett blushed, surprisingly demure.

“I—me too. But ah...people on the internet? So cruel. And uncultured, if I dare to go so far in saying.”   
  
Fenris chuckled but nodded.

“Starting a new account is a good idea. Anyone paying close enough attention will figure out your new username easily enough. Or you can just take a break for a while.”

Garrett hummed.

“A break might be nice. I’ve been having fun focusing more on you, anyways.”

It was Fenris’s turn to shy away, even as he took another bite of the scone. They hadn’t gone overboard in any of the preceding nights since Fenris had announced that he’d like for Garrett to make a point of keeping him well fed during his stay. Garrett had of course delivered in spades, and he certainly hadn’t felt hungry the entire time. It still wasn’t his natural inclination to eat this much on his own, but having Garrett putting food in his hands throughout the day, plus the encouragement to eat more at meals was starting to show.

The gentle, smooth outward curve of his stomach that’d settled in by Christmas was starting to soften and widen out in front of him and taking on a more defined shape. He was right, too; his belly was flabbier than Hawke’s was inclined to be and already jiggled a little when he walked. He wasn’t eating an inhuman amount the way Garrett could at any one given time, but however many pounds had settled on him since Garrett started feeding him were making a notable difference on his figure as though suddenly the weight was eager to find it’s place on his body.

He shifted, tugging down his sweats with one finger. That was the real sign to him of the extra weight; he was going to need new sleepwear. These had gotten uncomfortable with the seat stretched tight across his ass and the elastics digging in deep on his softer flesh. Glancing down, it was clear that his thighs were looking a little too snug as well and while structurally he’d always had hips that looked a bit wider than you’d expect, they were looking especially curvy now and his thighs had already started to touch. It was unexpected and a constant, guilty reminder of how quickly he was pudging out under Garrett’s attentive care.

But whatever the lingering guilt he was still examining, his softening flesh was also sensitive, and intriguing, especially when Hawke went down on him and spent some time sucking and nipping gently at the tender meat of his thighs before taking him in whole.

It wasn’t only his sweats that were fitting differently. When he got dressed he gravitated towards wearing the more forgiving joggers he’d brought with him and he was starting to get nervous over whether or not he’d actually fit into the jeans he’d arrived with. His shirts still fit without issue, but they fit differently. His stomach caught it in place now, and it clung to his growing love handles.

He  _ had  _ love handles. They were hardly anything, but they looked even more evident in the too small sweats, pushed up and swelling over the sides of the elastic. It was uncomfortable, but in the most interesting, tantalizing way.

Still, he hadn’t lost his nerve yet. He wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of this experiment was but it had started to feel like he’d spent so much time thinking about it that the only way to have a more definitive answer was going to do it, and not half-heartedly. Like a song that you couldn’t get out of your head until you could play it a few times and satisfy whatever bizarre urge it was that’d taken hold of you. It didn’t feel  _ bad _ . Different, yes. It even felt  _ good _ , more than good, given that he had someone loving and affectionate who didn’t touch the softening parts of his body like they were evidence of failure. To Hawke it seemed that they were incidentally parts of his body that had become larger, and softer, and regardless his body still deserved attention and adoration. The feeling, at times, was euphoric in a way that made him wonder how often he’d ever let himself feel euphoria before.

There were moments of panic, of course. If he looked a little too long in the mirror and started to catalogue every change at once his chest would feel tight and the knot in his gut was not one of the pleasure of being adored by his lover or the telltale pinching cramps of having actually eaten a little too much. The feeling of the extra weight on his body didn’t feel bad; there were just moments where the looking bothered him. Seeing himself in full view, seeing how different it looked even though his curiosity still tapered itself with a pragmatic promise to re-evaluate how he felt about it when he went home. He kept reminding himself that like Garrett, if he didn’t like the weight, he’d simply have a rather bland new years goal.

New Years, which wasn’t far off anyways. A little longer wouldn’t do much more than what they’d already done to his body, how they’d changed it’s perimeters.

“Want another?” Hawke asked, handing him another scone, this one with a different coloured berry. “I made them with blackberries too.”

Fenris passed a hand over his rounded stomach thoughtfully, debating if he had room. The flabbiness of his belly when he wasn’t so full bothered him, if he were being honest. When he was full, it had a more appealing curve similar to the one that he so admired on Garrett. But, he reasoned, Garrett was actually large enough now that even his belly was quite flabby underneath and he found it just as appealing as when it’d held a harder edge.

He let out a breath and nodded, closing his hand around the scone and this time even going to the fridge to get some butter for it. It was going to take some time to get used to how the weight was showing up on his softer middle, but for now it actually felt better just to keep it full while he processed the change. He caught Hawke staring after him hungrily and made a show of bending over, feeling his ass spread and test the constraints of the fabric. Unlikely to be near tearing but even so, he was sure the visual was impressive.

They’d settled into an easy rhythm; Sebastian had called him to say that he’d been looking at the budget and they had enough to pay him for another month if he was interested. He was and accepted after conferring with Garrett about the time off they wanted to take together to go to the Arbor Wilds. Which brought a curious question that ran counterintuitive to this current experiment with his body.

“Ah, Hawke,” Fenris said, taking a seat at the table to butter the scone. “I’ve been thinking about our trip in February.”

Garrett turned, taking a scone of his own and joining him at the table. With how Garrett ate, his weight had to be ticking upwards, but he’d gotten large enough that any slowing in his gaining made it harder to pick out where the extra pounds were going. Fenris shifted in his seat, unfamiliar with how his thighs would quash together now; not uncomfortable, but distracting. He would be unsurprised if they’d actually put on the same amount since Christmas.

“Oh?  _ Please _ don’t tell me you’re cancelling Fen, I know there’s a lot of work at the University for reading week, but you deserve a break, especially after throwing on another whole month with the centre.”

Fenris reached down and tentatively passed a hand over his stomach, which pouched out further in his seated position. He was quite full, but not as full as he expected to be at meal times, so there was a decent amount of softness to grip at. He did just that, taking a handful and giving it a light squeeze. The layer of pudge pushed through the gaps of his fingers slightly and he wanted to keep touching, give it a shake so he could mediate on how it felt to have the movement wobble up to the little mounds of flesh softening his chest too. He let go, having meant the touch to be innocent.

“No, I’m not cancelling. I’m not worried about this, exactly,” he said, gesturing more broadly to his newly softened gut. “But, I haven’t actually _moved_ lot lately, and I want to make sure that I have the stamina to do the amount of hiking that I want to do.”

“Oh, right. Of course, that makes sense. Ah…want to start coming with me to the gym again?”

Fenris gave Garrett a look up and down. For the holidays and this little experiment of theirs, the gym hadn’t even come up so Fenris had forgotten that Garrett actually went quite regularly. He eyed the man’s broad shoulders appreciatively but quickly refocused.

“That might be wise. I…just wanted you to know that if I lose any weight it’s not because I’m disliking this. Actually I…if you happen to keep  _ feeding me up _ like this after I go home, I likely won’t tell you to stop.”

At this, Garrett smiled warmly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m...getting used to eating as I want. To  _ knowing _ how much I want.”

“Compliment accepted, and instructions noted,” Garrett said, happily biting into his own scone. He glanced over coyly, pointedly resting his gaze on Fenris’s softened middle. “My cooking looks good on you.”

Fenris felt himself easing into the compliment, his limbs going loose and comfortable as he leaned back in the chair, pushing his stomach out in a shameless display. It was easy to be shameless and decadent with Hawke in the safe refuge of his home. He wasn’t certain yet if he was being ambitious or overestimating his boldness for when he had to go out and actually be seen, but for now he wanted to revel in the feeling of his ever-present, ever-filled stomach.

Seeing that he had Hawke’s interest and seeing that they had a few hours before he went to go meet Isabela, Fenris felt inspired to see how far he could push things. He slowly ate the remainder of his snack, the stickiness of the light layer of icing melting between his fingers. He made a show of licking them clean as Garrett watched hungrily, his own snack forgotten on his plate. Fingers clean, Fenris dropped a hand over his stomach and moved it in a gentle, appreciative motion. A soft, growing gut because his boyfriend liked to dote upon him made him feel borderline delirious at moments. He’d eat anything if Hawke was the one making it.

He pointed a finger at Hawke’s scone.

“Are you going to finish that?”

Fenris laughed at how flustered Garrett looked.

Garrett swore softly and meekly pushed the plate over.

“It’s all yours,” he said. “There’s plenty left.”

Fenris hummed, reaching for the plate, knowing full well how focused Garrett was on how it bunched his belly up in front of him and how clear it was through the shirt he was gradually filling out. This part, the kink part, was  _ fun _ . He never felt bad about the weight when it was being so openly and affectionately observed.

He was surprised when Garrett stood, thinking that he might have lost his attention or maybe Garrett had plans for the afternoon and didn’t have time to get all worked up about his  _ chubby _ boyfriend. Fenris wondered if he were around the minimum ten extra pounds Garrett had said he’d have to hit before being able to make any claim on the word. Objectively though, he couldn’t say that he thought he looked  _ chubby _ yet. Soft, yes. Pudgy, yes. But still airing on the conservative side of what he thought of when he heard the word “chubby”.

He hadn’t lost Garrett’s attention. He came back with the plate that still had four or five scones on it. They weren’t perfectly uniform, but each was roughly about the size of his palm.

“Have as many as you like; I’m going to make us lunch.”

Touché.

“What’s for lunch?” Fenris asked, thoughtfully picking at the scone in his hand and breaking it into smaller pieces. If he ate slowly enough, lunch shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

“I wanted to try and recreate those reubens they make in the deli around the corner from work, see if I could save myself the money.”

Fenris weighed his options; he had no doubt that Garrett would be successful in creating something close to the sandwiches he was talking about. It was going to be greasy and filling. Even if he didn’t eat any more of the scones, he was going to have trouble finishing it without starting to feel stuffed. But, he didn’t have any plans until the afternoon and spending the time between now and then digesting didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. Anyways, he could fit a lot more in now and maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. He cupped his little belly in his hand as though trying to measure how far he was from his limits.

“I don’t have to meet Izzy for a few more hours, might as well spend it gorged with your cooking,” Fenris said, shrugging as though he hadn’t just ran through a long series of options.

He could feel his skin tingling with the anticipation of Hawke breaking and hauling him up to the bedroom immediately. But Hawke could be painfully stubborn when he wanted to be and Fenris watched, impressed, as he pushed forward, resolved to drag this out as much as he could.   
  
“What better way could there be?” Garrett hummed cheerfully.   
  
From the back view Fenris admired how wide Garrett was becoming but more noteworthy was perhaps how he seemed to have adjusted to the weight and was less clumsy for it. The familiar, sure movements as he took up his task were as appealing as they’d ever been. Watching Garrett focus so intently filled Fenris with a calm and without even really registering it, he was working his way through the remnants of Garrett’s food.

All this food he’d been eating; he didn’t know if Garrett had always been this passionate about cooking or if it was something he was finding as he purposefully packed more and more weight onto his body, but Fenris had started to associate a good meal as an inherently  _ Garrett Hawke _ thing. The weight landing on his own body—in his belly, thighs, fuck, even his arms—was weight he chose to carry because of this man he adored. It meant the time they were spending together, as it was now where he patiently waited as the air filled with the enticing smells of whatever it was hitting the pan, being roasted in the oven or stewed on the stove.

Despite the appeal of packing in as much food as he could humanly handle, Fenris decided on the conservative route and finished Garrett’s scone then only picked at the next one. Still, by the time that Garrett was finished, he was certainly not hungry even as he mentally prepared himself to eat more.

The sandwiches are overflowing, thick with meat and cheese and dripping with sauce. Garrett, showing off a bit, plates them beautifully and serves a side of hash with it. Still, Fenris finds that he’s not overly concerned. He knows that he’s going to feel full, but not so extremely stuffed by the time he has to meet Izzy and there’s something scandalous about being able to calculate that now. Pushing himself close to the edges of capacity, but never quite beyond.

It'd been so difficult at first to eat as much as he “needed” to start adding weight, but it was quickly shifting. Easier too with Garrett being so conscious of how they were ingesting the extra calories. It would be easier with loading up on empty snacks, and Garrett certainly did between meals, but this was lovingly calculated. Garrett wanted him to enjoy the fruits of his labours to their fullest. His reward was reaped as it gradually engorged his body.

“This looks amazing,” Fenris said. “Maybe better than the deli?”

“Ah, but you haven’t tasted it yet. I’m not sure I’ve got the sauce right.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Hawke,” Fenris assured. It was difficult to fathom any of Garrett’s culinary endeavors as subpar at this point given that he’d sampled so many.

The first bite was overwhelming; sauerkraut, corned beef, dressing, cheese. Arbitrarily none of the things that he’d have chosen under his own directive, but when composed together by Garrett, becomes worthy of exploration. Once he adjusted to the initial blast of flavour a familiar question snapped forward in his head of, “what the hell was I eating before?”. Another unexpected side effect of eating so well with Garrett has been more closely examining what he’d been eating before. It wasn’t as though he’d been eating the blandest of foods, but Garrett’s palette was as bright and unabashedly rich as his personality. Perhaps that is what surprised him the most about eating Garrett’s cooking; it was so  _ like _ him. Garrett had genuinely gotten so large because he enjoyed the fuck out of food. He was creative with it.

Looking up from his sandwich, Fenris saw Garrett’s eyebrows pinch together.

“Garrett. It’s delicious.”

Garrett sighed.

“Well, it’s not  _ bad _ . But there’s something off about the sauce.”

“There is not.”

“Love, trust me, I’m missing  _ something _ and I’ll likely never know exactly unless I somehow manage to get in that old man’s good graces, woe his son and marry in. Assuming he’s obliging of the whole same-sex marriage thing and assuming you don’t mind me having a side-sham marriage.”

Fenris tried not to laugh through his food.

“Good luck,” he offered, noncommittal.

“Thanks for the glowing support,” Hawke said, feigning offense. Fenris raised and eyebrow and gestured down at his rounded out middle.

“I think I am a glowing example of support."

Garrett swept his gaze over him appreciatively.

“It’s like an empathy belly, except our baby is my sensitive soul.”

Fenris did his utmost to focus on the task of finishing the sandwich in front of him rather than laughing, choking and potentially dying as a result of Garrett’s rambling. He glanced at the clock and felt a swoop of anxiety wash over him as he realized that he was most certainly still going to be bloated by time he met up with Isabela. She hadn’t said anything each time they’d met up, but by now it was impossible not to notice that he was adding weight at a ridiculous pace now. And atop that, it wasn’t as though there was any shortage of food even when it was just the two of them. If anything, her appetite rivalled Garrett now that the diet and gym membership were abandoned for the time being.

He'd found his first stretch mark, just on the lower part of his slowly swelling belly. Garrett had cooed and doted on it as though it were some difficult thing to accomplish but Fenris felt strangely ambivalent to it. Firstly, it was only one, and it was small and hardly noticeable despite it’s warm, fresh look. Maybe it was because he was so used to Izzy’s; hers streaked up and down her hips in enticing nets over her soft flesh and painted across the soft swell of her belly. Even in her thinner days they were easy to trace and follow the lines of with fingers and tongue.

His mark, perhaps the first of more to come— _ surely _ the first of more to come at this rate—cut across the line of a tattoo. Some part of him wished that the tear in his own skin from the inside out would be thrilling as it cut through the one that’d been so painfully carved in, but it simply felt  _ correct _ . Maybe some element of relief to know that it could be done, a comfort in knowing that the perfection of those inked lines and what they represented were not as ironclad as they had been intended.

Truth be told, when he really thought about it despite trying so diligently to not think of it at all, he doubted that Danarius expected him to live this long. He hadn’t considered a body slowly moving closer and closer to middle aged, wouldn’t have thought about the way his eyes had started to crinkle around the edges even when he wasn’t smiling, the aching back…there’d never been a future planned for him.

“Something wrong with the sandwich?” Garrett asked, peering over curiously. Fenris immediately discarded the thought and shook his head.

“No, just…”he trailed. Thinking about how I didn’t expect to live this long? He shook his head. “I’m…I’m glad we get to spend this time together.”

He could feel Garrett studying him as he took another bite of his lunch, and refused to look back.

“You say  _ “I love you” _ in the most interesting ways,” Garrett said. Maybe he’d meant it to sound light, but there was a vulnerable thing lurking in his voice that made Fenris look up.

“As long as you never doubt it.”

Garrett’s mouth spread into a smile and he looked bashful, shaking his head.

“No, I’ve never doubted it. Hey—you look like you’re struggling to finish that. Want me too?”

Fenris looked down at the sandwich in front of him. He was  _ taking a break _ , as though sitting a few minutes was going to magically open up some more space in his tightening stomach. Gently, he pressed his finger down the into the topmost part of it inquisitively and rubbed it slowly. He kind of wanted Izzy to say something; she had to have noticed by now? It was a him and Garrett thing, but he wanted to talk to her about it. There was some part of this that felt like he was getting carried away or too eager to have someone place influence on him. That, and he wanted her honest opinion on how it…all looked on him. Objectively.

Fuck it.

“I can finish,” he said, leaning back and cupping both sides of his belly and presenting it to him. “You’ve only got a few more days to make your mark on this.”

Hawke swallowed hard and gave a tight nod and pushed up from his seat. Belly first he swayed a little as he tried to move a little too quickly and Fenris smirked. One thing he deeply enjoyed about the weight was that some of their dynamic had shifted back to him and it didn’t feel so uneven. Truth be told, it felt more equal than it ever had.

Hawke moved the chair beside him and got as close as his own belly would allow. He gave a light pat on the side of Fenris’ bloated belly.

“I’m sure I’ll find ways to keep adding to this,” he said. “But you look like you need a little help.”

He couldn’t really look down and eat at the same time as Garrett pressed his wide, open palm in soothing circles over the tightness of his stomach, he let himself feel around the growing girth of his own body. Filled this tight, the skin was sensitive and soon it’d really start to have that stretched feeling. The same stretched feeling that’d made that small tear in his skin as he piled more into his body. Would that tear get bigger? Were more going to appear and in the same way? He wanted to go far enough to see, to have the tattooed lines of his body be split and torn like the seams of a well-worn garment. Getting  _ fat _ felt like liberation from something he hadn’t even realized had been holding him back.

He was getting so full that it was getting hard to breath. Garrett kneaded at a cramp in his belly, trying to offer some relief. For Fenris though, it was titillating simply by the fact that they’d gotten here without planning it and it wasn’t making him anxious to know that. He going close to that thing line between _ comfortably full _ and  _ stuffed _ and Izzy was going to know and see what was happening to him. What was everyone at both of his jobs going to think? Sebastian and Josephine likely wouldn’t say anything, just assume that the two office jobs were getting to him just as it had for them. Maybe it was even expected.   
  
Whatever anyone thought, Fenris knew that it was a _ release _ . A freedom that he could afford himself, finally, but paid ten times over.

“You’re doing so good,” Garrett said, gently dabbing at some sauce that’d started to drip down one side of his mouth. Fenris nodded, nearly too full to speak. It was hard to keep his eyes open, as he started sinking into the heat of his own body trying to process all the food he was cramming into himself. Gingerly, he stroked over the bloated bulge of his belly.

“Hey,” Garrett said as he squeezed his thigh gently. “You don’t have to finish.”

“I want to,” Fenris huffed out. He slipped his hands to the bottommost part of his belly, tracing where it creased slightly when he wasn’t stuffed. He shuddered as Garrett’s hand moved up his thigh, sinking into the growing softness.

“You’re so serious,” Garret said warmly, moving his hand to grip over Fenris’ dick which was eagerly stiffening up. Garrett cupped his hand over and carassed gently. “It’ll hurt less the more quickly you eat.”

Fenris groaned by way of agreement, mouth too full and senses too distracted for much else. A little more had to have been half the sandwich still because it felt like it was taking him so long to get through it. Glancing at the clock, he was relaxed a little seeing that he still had plenty of time before he had to meet Isabela. He shifted in his chair, trying to make more room for what felt like a boulder starting to take up space in his lap. Of course, he was still too small for his stomach to come anywhere near settling into his lap, but at the moment he was so stuffed that he felt like he was twice his actual size.

“You’re so hot when you get determined,” Garrett said, a note of awe in his voice. “I love that you want to be soft with me.”

Fenris glanced down between bites of food and his eyes widened at just how engorged his middle was. He hooked a finger in his sweats, trying to tug them down a little more from where the elastic was biting into the softness of his hips.

“You look amazing,” Garrett said, raising his hand and coaxing the last of the sandwich past his lips. As Fenris swallowed, he dropped his hands back down to rub over the taut stretch of skin, pressing just hard enough that Fenris had to catch a quiet belch in his hand. He frowned; this was the part he didn’t love about being stuffed. The  _ gassiness _ . As Garrett gently started pushing up the hem of his shirt that clung tightly around his rounded belly it was clear that he didn’t care at least as he pressed affirming kisses against the tight skin. He felt Garrett’s tongue trace over the stretch mark then suck gently. It was sensitive and Fenris couldn’t help but arch into the touch as a soft moan escaped his lips. As Garrett continued, he didn’t give a fuck about who had more control at the moment; it felt too good.

Garrett’s large hands running over his softer thighs, eagerly examining the heft and shape of his gorged stomach, the moving us and using his mouth to suck at the puffs of fat around his nipples.

“I think,” Fenris said, between burning kisses. “I think I can fit a bit more.”

“Really?” Garrett asked weakly, sounding as breathless as he was. He was leaning heavily over his own belly and it pressed warmly into Fenris’ side. “Could you?”

“I’m thirsty,” Fenris said. And he was; all the salt and sour of the sandwich with the increasingly heated petting was leaving him parched. “Don’t you have that almond and chai drink in the fridge still?”

Garrett pulled away and Fenris trailed a hand after him as Garrett stood. He clenched his hand tightly before returning it to his side, resting it over the soft swell of his love handle. Tenderly, he caressed himself as he waited, lending himself an affectionate touch. Until this weight he couldn’t think of a time he’d let himself be so loving of his own body. That was a task he’d passed on to Garrett but as Garrett fattened him it was as though it were a skill being passed back to him.

Fenris felt borderline rapturous as Garrett handed him a glass of the thick, spiced and sugary beverage.

“Could I suggest, perhaps that while you imbibe that fine beverage, that I blow you?” Garrett said with all the gravitas of an actor in a lone spotlight on stage. Fenris tried not to laugh and it shot a pang through him.

“Hawke…” Fenris trailed. Instead of scolding him or offering a sarcastic retort, which he hardly had breath for anyways, he simply spread his thighs wider and gestured invitingly. Garrett got him to push the chair back so he’d have room to get down in front of him and obligingly peeled his sweats down.

“Oh babe, we got to get you something else to sleep in,” Garrett said, sounding genuinely concerned about the bright read marks on his skin from the elastic struggling to fit under his middle. Fenris hummed in agreement, gingerly moving so that Garrett could pull his sweats and underwear down. The relief of being unrestricted was immediate and his dick sprung out, already leaking at the tip. It was egregiously decadent, to be sprawled and filled like this and with one hand bracingly on the side of his tight belly, he tried to force some of his drink down and thinking about how much more space his ass and thighs were going to be taking up in this damn chair by the time he went home.

Garrett, as expected, spent some time with his mouth hot and wet sucking at the softer skin of his thighs, making him jump a little. The movement sent a pang of pain through him that sent a hot coil down through him. The drink was sweet and milky and he was struggling to get it down with how full he already was. The coolness as he urged himself on helped with the hot feeling of digesting so much fucking food. It wasn’t as though they’d skipped breakfast. By time he’d gotten to the scones he’d simply been back at the, “I can fit in more” stage of eating.

Now, he was at the painfully bloated, hopelessly stuffed, sinking into the intoxicating promise of his body softening around him. Garrett’s tongue went up the length of his shaft before he went down, swallowing him whole. Fenris moaned, pausing from drinking his beverage and nearly dropping it from the tingling pleasure that was creeping up through to his limbs.

Garrett’s large hands gripped at his hips, fingers digging into the new, tender flesh and Fenris tried not to jostle too much even as the spikes of pain mingled with the heat of Garrett’s mouth on him. He felt like he was too far gone, like he was melting into the assault on all his senses from both the inside and out and though it ran contrary to his intentions somewhere in that he managed to make the decision to actually put the drink down after only a few sips; it was too much to co-ordinate and he’d more likely end up spilling it on Garrett. Which, would probably be fine, but seemed…sticky.

Instead, he let himself reach for the top of Garrett’s head with one hand, affectionately threading his fingers through his hair and used his other hand to hold himself steady. He likely didn’t look that big but the way his belly was gorged at the moment made him feel huge, even with Garrett’s large, body down before him as contrast.

Like this, he could understand how Garrett had taken so quickly to eating and gaining weight for pleasure; the orgasms that came while being painfully full were unlike any other he’d ever experienced. The endorphins released as you came counteracted the painful, cutting feeling of your own body expanding beyond its intended capacity and fought out within your body until you surrendered and sunk around a feeling of ecstasy.

He came with a loud and unreserved cry, engorged and prone and feeling so intensely heavy as he sprawled in the kitchen chair of Garrett's kitchen, almost dizzy with the euphoria. Hearing the intensity of his orgasm, Garrett quickly smothered his soft thighs and stretched belly with kisses and gentle ministrations, murmuring all the while compliments and sounding wild with lust. Fenris groaned softly; he'd never heard anyone but Garrett sound so enamoured with him, even like this. Perhaps especially like this.

"You're getting so soft for me," Garrett said, carefully hoisting his own heavy body up and clumsily kissing him on throat. "You're starting to look so plump."

Fenris wheezed a weak laugh.

"Plump?" he asked, neither really to Garrett or himself but more at the notion itself. Him? Plump? In what world could he have ever imagined such a thing.

_ "Yes _ , love, you're really starting to fill out."

Fenris tried not to shiver as Garrett's hands slid down the widening sides of him, a thumb stopping to massage a nipple until it peaked out.

"It feels good," Fenris admitted, and felt not a sliver of shame or fear in admitting it. He peered over at Garrett, raking his gaze over his lover's bloated, round body and distantly wondering as he so often did how much he weighed now. Garrett looking comically large, leaned back on his haunches between his legs. Fenris reached out a hand so that he could help hoist himself up. Garrett accepted gratefully and got himself into the chair beside him, his own erection noticeable even as his belly settled into its usual position, ever so close to settling happily in his lap even when not stuffed to the brim.

"Here, let--" Fenris started but bit his lip as a little twinge of pain hit him in the stomach from the effort of moving.

"Hm, I think your appetite got the better of you there," Garrett said teasingly. Fenris huffed out a breath, not really frustrated but trying to muster the energy to at least properly reciprocate.

"No, darling, it's alright maybe...maybe just let me watch you touch yourself."

Fenris gave a weak nod and reached down to his cock, already twitching again with interest.

"No—I mean...your belly."

Fenris paused, feeling his body go almost unbearably hot again as he felt a flush of embarrassment. He hadn't really considered his belly to be a prominent enough feature to garner the ability to actually arouse Garrett. But then, Garrett's did for him so he couldn't truly indulge in shock. Obligingly, tentatively, he settled his own hand over his stomach and started massaging the taut, curving lkine. He leaned back in the chair, pushing in outwards as he sought relief from how tight it was and pressed in as hard as he dared. Moving his hand back he reached for the softer flesh of his hips, gripping tightly before dragging his hands back him.

"Let yourself relax," Garrett said soothingly as he reached for himself. He had to shift a little, his belly in the way and Fenris shut his eyes so as not to get distracted by other urges again. He breathed in as deeply as he could and tried to lose himself in the feeling of attending to his rounded middle.

"I can't believe how soft I'm already getting," he admitted quietly.

"I'm a terrible influence."

Fenris smiled.

"Yes," he agreed. "You're far too generous with your habits."

"Do you like me keeping you fed though?"

"Yes, Hawke. I like you keeping me fed. Overfed. I like catching myself reaching for something without you handing it to me and then eating it anyways."

"I see you, you know," Garrett said, breath hitching. "Touching yourself, seeing how much you can fit in your hand."

"More every day," Fenris said, casting a quick glance at Garrett, hand pumping around his thick cock and closing his eyes again. He was trying to stay calm. And they'd done this enough now that he knew the way he liked to soothe himself, what felt best. He swooped both hands around, cupping his belly the way he knew that Garrett loved and gave it a careful, stiff wobble. There was hardly any give and he circled underneath the bowed-out curve with his fingers. "More to come, I think."

He continued pressing his palms in, truly relaxing into the feeling, and getting so lost in it that he was nearly startled as he heard Garrett come beside him with a gentle whimper.

They stayed there, sitting and catching their breath until each mustering the strength to pull themselves up and sleep off some of the bloat, bodies hot and soft against one another, hands careful and resting appreciatively on one another.


End file.
